#daredevil yeah whatever

[avesseloflanguage]

compellingly-written male characters with a lot of religious imagery and guilt who develop powers after an accident, and after losing their parent(s) decide to use those powers to hurt bad people in order to make the world a safer place, something they also wish(ed) to do with their chosen profession despite the fact that this job's ideals and structure appears to morally conflict with their vigilante life

they're the same character your honor

[xycuro-illuminati]

I find it really funny how m/cu dd fans love to write Matt as someone who just CANNOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCE give up being Daredevil. He CAN'T do it bc of that stupid "The city needs me." line. Meanwhile, comics Matt stubs his toe and he's like "That's it, I can't be Daredevil anymore. I'm giving it up." for the 5th time that month. Homeboy has given up the mantle plenty of times it's on par with him faking his death.

[comicsiswild]

Daredevil (2022) #13

[ihopeitruinsrocknroll]

ngl am I the only one who prefers vigilante, morally grey, works w team red spiderman > pure sunshine shines out of his smile, never kills, never hurts or maims spiderman?

Cause I do like nice spiderman, but then I look at Team Red vigilantism, and I just-

[bellaxgiornata]

Half of Forever [Two]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!Reader Word Count: 2.2k [Series Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: break up, pining, idiots in love, angst with a happy ending

a/n: This part is all in Matt's POV and it's the second of three in this little mini series. Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

Matt's hand curled around Foggy's bicep as he descended the stairs of the courthouse, the heat of the midday sun warming him through his suit. Lowering his cane along each step, a sharp tapping resounded in his ears while he walked. As Foggy guided him back towards the office, a frown permanently settled along Matt's lips. 

Things had not gone how Matt had hoped this morning.

“Well that went about as well as I expected it to,” Foggy stated, mirroring Matt's thoughts. “And did you see Judge Andrews’ face, Karen?”

Karen was walking just a step behind Matt, her heels hitting the concrete a bit more harshly than usual. Matt heard her release a defeated sigh as her hand reached up, frustratedly tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. He could feel the agitation in her body and the tension in her muscles, already aware of her own soured mood before she'd spoken.

“Yeah, I saw,” she answered. “But the trial hasn't finished yet. Maybe there's a chance we can still turn things around?”

“I really hope so,” Foggy muttered. “But honestly I feel like we'd need a miracle at this point.”

Matt heard the movement of Foggy’s head turning in his direction the moment they'd stepped onto the sidewalk. He caught the unmistakable intake of his breath next, aware that Foggy was about to address him. And Matt had a good idea of exactly what it was that he was about to say.

“Are you just allergic to taking easy cases that make us money, Matt?” Foggy asked. “Because I think I remember telling you this one would be a pain in our asses. And look at that!” Foggy waved his free hand in the air. “It's turning out to be a pain in our ass!”

“Mr. Barrows is innocent, Foggy,” Matt replied, trying to restrain his own irritation. “And we help the innocent, if you recall.”

Karen remained silent, her head ducked down as she walked. But Matt felt the air shift as Foggy began nodding vigorously.

“Yes,” he agreed. “Yes we do. But we also have bills to pay. Do you remember what bills are, Matt? Because we have a lot of them. And not just for the law firm, but you know, outside of it, too. And maybe you're not big into the whole having somewhere to live thing,” Foggy sarcastically carried on, “but I think Karen and I both enjoy having apartments. And food.”

“I get it, Fog,” Matt stated flatly. 

“Do you though?” Foggy persisted. “Because you keep insisting we take these cases that you stumble on with your nighttime hobby. And unless Daredevil himself would like to take the witness stand, these cases become pretty damn impossible to fight.”

“You know I can't do that,” Matt pointed out. “For more than one reason.”

“No, of course not,” Foggy grumbled. “Because then we'd have even bigger problems. But all I'm asking is that we–”

Matt's fingers gripped tight around Foggy's arm when his senses unexpectedly picked up on something. Whatever Foggy had been saying had gone completely unheard by Matt as he momentarily ceased to even breathe. 

Standing absolutely still on the sidewalk, Matt swore he'd just caught the scent of your favorite perfume and the beat of your heart among the afternoon crowd milling about on the city’s streets. It was a combination Matt had once known better than even Foggy’s presence. Despite having thought about you more than he cared to admit over the years, Matt hadn't realized just how closely he'd been unconsciously looking for that distinct combination until he'd startlingly and accidentally stumbled on it.

His mouth felt like it had gone dry, his tongue sitting heavy as he recalled the scent of that very perfume filling his nose every time he had buried his face into the crook of your neck. Head shifting over his shoulder as his eyes narrowed behind his glasses, he attempted to focus in on where you were. While he scanned around himself, desperately hoping to find you again, someone roughly smacked into his side as they passed him. Matt stumbled backwards a step, but he still remained intensely focused in his search, paying no mind to anything else.

“Dude, what's going on?” Foggy asked in a hushed tone. “Is something happening in the city?”

“Back again, handsome Devil?”

Something like panic hit Matt next, his heart speeding up in his chest while his hand tightened around his cane. Your voice. It was like he could hear it as clear as when he used to slip through your apartment window late at night. With his head darting frantically from side to side, he continued to search for you like a man possessed. He wasn’t entirely sure what had taken over him, but he was determined to find you in the crowd again.

“Matt?” Karen’s hesitant voice cut through his concentration. “Is…everything alright?”

He’d opened his mouth, about to tell them both to keep quiet and let him just focus for a minute, but then he found it again. The perfume you always wore–a light floral scent that never gave him a headache or overwhelmed his senses. A scent that immediately stirred up a myriad of memories in his mind. The melodic sound of your laughter whenever he told a joke. The feel of your hand sliding up the inside of his thigh when you’d had a few too many to drink at Josie’s. Your fingers gently and tenderly tracing the injuries on his naked and battered body before he fell asleep in your bed. 

Closing his eyes, he focused in on the sound of your heartbeat as you made your way through the throng of people just across the street. It was the same rhythm he used to love listening to whenever he curled up with you in bed at night. He’d often rest his head along your chest, listening to the calming beating of it as your fingers absently carded through his hair. He’d never felt more at peace or more loved than when he was wrapped in your embrace listening to that exact sound. 

Except–

His mouth sinking even further into a frown, Matt’s eyes snapped open. Something wasn’t right. The cadence was a little off, not quite exactly the same sound as the one he’d so often fallen asleep hearing beating loud in his ear. 

No…that wasn’t you at all.

Jaw tightening at the surprise of how hollow he felt at that realization, Matt released his focus on the stranger across the street. She wasn’t you. Blinking hard a few times, he felt tears beginning to build in his eyes as a flood of despair slammed straight into him. It had been so long since he’d last heard your heartbeat that he’d gone and forgotten the sound of it. 

How could he have ever forgotten it?

“Matt?” Foggy tried again. “You okay, buddy?”

Throat tightening with emotion, Matt nodded weakly. “Yeah.”

“What uh, what was that all about?” he asked carefully. “Never seen you get so…quiet before.”

Matt cleared his throat a couple of times, hoping that he’d be able to form a sentence without his voice cracking and giving away how emotional he’d suddenly become. Blinking a few more times, he also hoped that he could hide the tears welling in his eyes behind the lenses of his glasses. 

“Just thought I heard something,” he replied, catching the tremor in his voice. “But I was mistaken.”

“Like what?” Karen asked curiously. “Someone in trouble?”

Matt’s lips pursed into a thin line as he shook his head. “No, nothing like that. But we should be getting back to the office,” he said, attempting to change the topic. “We’ve got a lot to prepare for if we hope to do better in court tomorrow.”

Reaching his hand back out, Matt grasped onto Foggy’s bicep once more. He hoped they’d just drop the entire thing despite how strange he knew he’d just appeared by stopping in the middle of a conversation and becoming entirely unresponsive. But as Foggy began to guide him down the sidewalk again, the sound of Karen’s heels resuming their clacking along the pavement, he could practically feel the thoughts swimming in both of their heads.

“So if it wasn’t a crime being committed, what was it?” Foggy asked half a block later. 

“Yeah, I’m pretty curious to know what the hell that was, too,” Karen chimed in.

The frown never left Matt’s face as he kept his attention straight ahead of himself, swinging his cane from left to right on the sidewalk. He didn’t want to think about this anymore, especially because the scent of your tears and the sound of you crying in his apartment from that night were steadily becoming impossible to ignore.

“You don’t mean that.”

You’d sounded so heartbroken. Because of him. Because of what he’d had to do.

“Nothing,” Matt muttered. “Just thought I’d heard someone.”

“Heard someone as in like…what?” Foggy pressed. “Planning a crime? Winning the lottery?”

Matt didn’t respond. Instead he sped up his pace, hoping the pair would drop the subject if he didn’t answer their questions any further.

“Okay, so I’m guessing,” Karen said, craning her neck to look past Matt and focus on Foggy along his other side, “that he thought he heard someone and not something .”

“You might be onto something,” Foggy mused. “Maybe a client of ours? Or some crime lord that he's been obsessively chasing after? Or possibly a– wait a minute !”

Matt’s shoulders tensed, his eyelids lowering as he let out a sigh. Internally he began begging God that Foggy hadn’t figured it out. Matt hadn’t brought you up in so long, surely you wouldn’t have crossed Foggy’s mind, would you?

But then he heard it. Your name.

“Who’s that?” Karen asked.

“She and Matt used to date,” Foggy explained, leaning forward and speaking as if Matt wasn’t right there. “A few years back. They were inseparable. Like disgustingly adorable. I was basically ready for Matt to ask me to be his best man at the wedding–”

“They were engaged?” Karen asked in surprise.

“No,” Foggy answered, shaking his head as Matt grit his teeth at the topic of conversation, “but they might as well have been. I’ve never seen Matt so happy before in my life.”

“That’s enough,” Matt interjected.

“So what happened?” Karen asked Foggy, ignoring Matt entirely. 

“Somebody here doesn’t know how to just let himself be happy,” Foggy said.

The air shifted as Foggy’s free hand began vigorously gesturing at Matt beside him. Matt’s nostrils instantly flared in frustration. He wanted this conversation to end. Now .

“I said that’s enough ,” Matt snapped.

“So you thought you heard her then, huh?” Foggy continued. “Somewhere nearby? I mean, I would imagine she’s still in the city somewhere. I told you a little over a year ago that I saw her in Hell’s Kitchen at a coffee shop. And I’m pretty sure I told you back then that you should call her.”

“We’re over , Fog,” Matt bitterly reminded him.

“Because you’re an absolute idiot!” Foggy shot back, guiding the pair of them across the street. “You can just never let yourself be happy, Matt. You always have to self-sabotage every relationship you have. And it’s sad.”

“I do not. And there was more to the break up than that,” he muttered. “That's not at all what happened.”

“It's you, Matt. That's exactly what happened. What more could there be?” Foggy asked in exasperation. “She knew you, man. Like knew you, knew you. And apparently you going out in your little pajamas and getting your ass beat wasn’t a turn off because she was still in love with you.”

“I love you, Matty.”

“Stop it,” Matt warned.

“I saw the way she looked at you,” Foggy pushed. “And I saw how you were around her, man. You were in love with her–you’re still in love with her.”

“You’re my forever.”

“And I will never let you live down how incredibly idiotic it was of you to end that relationship,” Foggy told him. “Because you could have been happy. You could’ve–”

“I said stop it !” Matt roared, his lip curled back in a snarl as his head snapped in Foggy’s direction. “Stop talking about her already! We’re over, Foggy. Do you understand that? She’s not a part of my life anymore and she hasn’t been for years. So stop it .”

An awkward silence fell among all three of them as they neared the law firm’s office. Matt’s teeth were grinding back and forth, his muscles tensed as he walked. The urge to hit something was becoming unbearable as his fist curled tighter around his cane. It didn’t help that the sound of your crying and the sad, broken pleas from the last night he’d spoken with you had begun playing on a loop in his mind. He’d broken your heart that night, he damn well knew that.

“Please, Matty. You don’t mean that.”

“Don’t–don’t walk away from this!”

“I love you, Matt. Why’re you doing this to us?”

But he’d also broken his own that night, too.

Matt Murdock One Shot/Shorts Tag List: @pazii @shouldbestudying41 @kmc1989 @ebathory997 @yeonalie @shiorimakibawrites @xxdrixx @wkndwlff @leikelle @pinkratts @lazyxsquirrel @1988-fiend @marvelcinematiquniverse @carstairswife @stilldreaming666 @kiwwia-wiwwia @willwork4dilfs @will-delete-this-later-probably @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @theetherealbloom @yarrystyleeza @dramaholic18 @ladywholikesreading @sleepysleepymom @tartbeanpuzzles @harleycao @sunflower-tia @gamingfeline @juskonutoh @kezibear @ninacotte @withyoutilltheendoftheline @justanerd1 @scriptedmoon @ethereal-blaze @lucienofthelakes @sarahskywalker-amidala @flowher @loves0phelia

[patito-oward]

Always Been You

masterlist

Prompt: And the other is about how Pato falls in love with the reader, just how he says "oh yeah she's THE ONE"

since this prompt was pretty vague I took a lot of liberties with it, but I still hope you like it :)

Summary: After being dumped by his long term girlfriend, Pato realizes everything he’s ever wanted in a relationship has been right in front of him

WC: 4.1k

It happened very suddenly. Here’s the thing, Pato didn’t mean for it to happen at all. On the list of things he had planned for the year, this was definitely not on it. A 500 win? Definitely. A championship? Yep. Extending his contract with Mclaren? Right again. But starting the off season by being dumped by his long term girlfriend and realizing he’s in love with his best friend was not anywhere in his mind.

It all started at the last race of the season, Pato was leading the championship, and granted he got a podium on this race he would finally have his championship victory. To celebrate and support, almost everyone he knew came to Nashville. Pato rented out a block of rooms at a hotel, and one of the many people who showed up for him was his childhood best friend, YN.

So maybe it all started in 2008, when YN and Pato were in second grade and met on the playground at recess. YN was sitting on the swings reading a book when Pato approached her, he was new to San Antonio and didn’t have any friends, and wanted to know if they could be friends. From then on the two were inseparable. Pato was a daredevil at heart, and would often hurt himself, and YN would take the delicate time of walking him to the school nurse and kissing his injuries better. Pato always made YN laugh, and made sure she was never sad, no matter what happened in YN’s life, Pato was there everyday to make her smile.

As they got older their relationship changed, it lost a little bit of their childish innocence, but they grew so much closer. YN was at Pato’s first win in karting, and she was more excited than he was. When YN’s childhood dog died, Pato was at her house at 6:00 AM and spent the whole day with her, trying to cheer her up. They’d even started their own holiday traditions, every year on Christmas Eve, the two of them spent the day making cookies together and exchanged presents. YN had practically become family, she didn’t have the best home life, and the entire O’Ward family was so loving that she ended up spending more time with them than her actual family.

The two dated for a few months in eighth grade, and were each other’s first kiss, but when Pato began racing for F4 and was in France every weekend the two agreed it was best they just stayed friends. Since then that is all they had been, things in YN’s home got significantly worse as they went through high school and despite whatever Pato may have felt, he knew she needed his friendship and wasn’t willing to risk their relationship.

With Pato coming up through Indycar and YN being a full time student and having a job, it was easy to assume the two would drift after high school, that was never the case. They still saw each other everytime Pato was in Texas and Pato made sure YN made a couple of races every year. She remained his biggest supporter as he went from her hometown best friend to the most popular driver in Indycar.

Fast forward to now, things were going pretty perfect for Pato. He finally won the 500, he’s about to win the championship, and he’s got a great girlfriend, Maria. He figures he’ll marry her, he does love her, she’s supportive and nice and insanely hot. They’ve been dating for over a year and things have been going really well. The only time they’ve ever really fought is over YN, when she found out there was a “history” between them, and in hindsight Pato realizes maybe he should’ve told her sooner, but he never really thought about it. Yeah they’d dated for a few months a lifetime ago, but she’s always just been his YN, he doesn’t even think of her like that anymore. YN was one of the most sure things in his life, and sure for awhile he always thought what if?, but that was in the past.

All that being said, he didn’t think twice about inviting her to Nashville to watch him possibly win the championship. YN wasn’t able to make it to the 500, or any other race this year, and he wished she was there. She knew more than anyone how much this had meant to him, coming up after losses she was always the person he went to, and he wanted her to see him now that it had all been worth it. YN was reluctant to come, but after a lot of begging from Pato she agreed.

Thursday night he made sure everyone he invited out came to dinner with him at a steakhouse. There were 20 people at the restaurant, but Pato ended up with Maria sitting next to him and YN sitting across next to Elba. Maybe Pato should’ve realized it, the tension in her shoulders and how Maria’s smile tightened as he laughed at YN’s jokes, but he didn’t. So Maria sat there all night, and she really tried to be understanding, but she felt as if she was third-wheeling her own relationship. She had to listen to a million inside jokes she didn’t understand, and watch as his family fawned over YN.

It was at that dinner she realized that she’d spent a year dating a taken man. Pato was too good of a man, she knew he wasn’t doing it on purpose, but it became undeniable. As she watched him, she realized everything she felt for him, he felt for the woman across the table. At first she felt possessive, the need to prove that he was her partner, and that no matter what he’d chosen her over YN, but as time passed she felt less possessive and realized that there was no way to continue the relationship. It wasn’t fair to her, she deserved a man who loved her and only her, and Pato deserved to be with the person he loves.

After the dinner, they headed back to the hotel where Pato, who was utterly clueless of her realization, continued to be the perfect man, only making it so much harder for Maria to leave. She didn’t know how long she should let it go on for, if she broke things off now would she be getting in his head and ruining the weekend for him? Would continuing a relationship she’s already checking out of be just as cruel? Could she stand the rest of the weekend watching her boyfriend making heart eyes at another woman?

After sleeping on it, or rather not sleeping very much at all, she’d come to the conclusion that a clean break was best for everyone. They ordered breakfast to the room and as they sat at the small dinette she knew she had to bring it up.

Pato was halfway done with his breakfast, but she hadn’t eaten much at all, mostly just pushing her food around with her fork. “Pato, I think we need to talk.”

It’s rare that she’s this serious, and Pato knows that can’t be good, his silverware clatters as he sets it down and looks up at her. “Uh oh, what’s wrong?”

She hesitates for a moment, not knowing the best way to start the conversation. “It’s YN.”

Pato’s shocked, he doesn’t know what he expected but it wasn’t that, “What about YN?”

She figures there’s no reason to beat around the bush, “You’re in love with her.”

Pato’s a lot of things, surprised for sure, but also shockingly defensive and angry. “What? Babe, that’s ridiculous. I know you were upset about us in middle school, but I swear there’s nothing going on! I would never even think about cheating on you!”

She rested her hand on top of his, “I know you would never cheat on me, and I know you said there’s nothing and I believe you, but I saw the way you looked at her, and how she fit into your life, and it makes so much sense because you love her.”

Pato doesn’t really know what to say to that, “I love you.”

“But you are in love with her. Listen I love you, Pato, and you’re such a good man, but it’s not fair to either of us to continue this relationship. Not when your heart clearly isn’t in it.” Maria struggles over her words, voice cracking and eyes watering, but a soft smile is on her face as she says them.

“Are you saying what I think you are? You’re just giving up?”

“Pato, I’m letting you free, tell her how you feel, you deserve that kind of love.”

And maybe what she’s saying finally resonates with him because the best thing he says is, “I never meant to hurt you.”

She lets out a broken laugh at that, a single tear rolling down her face, “Oh, Pato, you never could, we aren’t meant for each other, but we still had a lot of fun, right?” He nods at her.

After that she’s on a plane and back to her home before he knows it. Pato’s sad, he feels a little empty, someone who had been such a big part in his life just walked out leaving the biggest mess in her wake. He thought about her words, but shook them off. He loved YN, of course he did, but it wasn’t like that, she was like a sister to him.

Although it’s not his sister he messages asking if she wants to come over. YN is at his hotel room within a minute of him sending the “you busy?” text. YN asks where Maria is, but all he has to say is “gone.” and YN knows to drop it.

YN knows him better than anyone, knows that he has an irrational fear of being destined to fail at every relationship. She knows he has never actually broken up with a girl, only ever been broken up with, and she knows he spent over two years single because he was afraid of being hurt. But she also knows that there’s no way anyone could spend more than an hour with him and not be in love with him, God knows she is.

It’s the way he knows her, inside and out, but it’s also the way he makes everyone around him laugh, and spends hours interacting with his fans to make them all happy, and how caring he is with animals and babies. YN is only human, how is she supposed to feel when her insanely attractive best friend is doting over her niece?

YN puts it all aside because she’s his best friend first, she’d made that promise to herself a long time ago and she’s always kept it. She sits with him and watches Friends reruns with him, he’ll talk when he wants to, but until then she’ll be by his side.

They don’t end up talking, the one good channel the hotel room has switches from Friends to Modern Family, and then Pato has to go practice. A quick google search helps her find the best tacos in Nashville, so while he’s gone she runs out to get them dinner. They had dinner plans with his parents and Elba, but YN texted Elba long ago to let her know that plans were changing. He’s a superstar, so of course he doesn’t let his life affect him and it still the fastest person in the first practice, YN thinks that’s a good sign.

When he returns he seems to be a little better, talking to YN about track conditions over their dinner. YN has had enough of waiting for Pato to bring it up, and she can tell he’s feeling better, so she has to work up the courage to ask him what happened.

“Are you going to tell me what happened with Maria or am I supposed to guess?”

His smile drops, turning into one that’s much smaller and forced. “She just left.”

“No explanation? She just woke up and was gone?”

“Oh, she had an explanation but it was bullshit. She probably just got tired of me, it's no big deal.”

YN furrows her brows at that. “Pato stop it, you’re so great anyone would be so lucky to be with you. Maybe there was some merit behind what she said.”

“Well she said I was in love with you, but I told her so many times we’re just friends and that’s all we’ll ever be.”

YN’s stomach sinks at that, it’s not like she expected him to confess his love, but he didn’t need to friendzone her that hard. “Oh.” Is all she can think to say.

“I mean you’re great, but you’re like a sister to me!”

YN forces out a laugh, “Right.” She also can’t help but feel like maybe it’s her fault this all happened, was her pining really that obvious? “Well then, she’s stupid for leaving because she’s not going to find anyone better.”

Pato’s smile is genuine for the first time since the conversation started, “Thank you, you’re the best friend I could’ve asked for.”

“Right, and don’t forget that when you’re trying to figure out what to do with all your championship earnings.”

He lets out a real laugh at that, a stark contrast to how mopey he’d been the rest of the day. “One, greedy, and two, I’m not buying you anything else. I'm tired of you getting mad when I spend money on you.”

“Pato, a graduation gift is fifty bucks, not a two thousand dollar tennis bracelet.”

He leans back in his seat and shrugs, smirking as he says, “Yet I’ve never seen you not wearing the bracelet.”

YN’s eyes go to her wrist where, sure enough, the bracelet was, just like everyday for the past three years. When Pato gave her the bracelet she refused to take it, saying it was too much and he needed to return it. After arguing for ten minutes she thought he’d finally agreed to take the bracelet back, but found it later sitting on her dresser. “What can I say? You have good taste.”

The rest of the night mirrored the morning, but had a much different tone, the two of them sat sprawled out on the couch quoting the episodes of Friends that were on, having seen them so many times they were known by heart.

When YN went to her own hotel room Pato realized how empty the place felt again, something he hadn’t noticed all day. He chose not to think too hard about how effortlessly YN took up space in his life.

The next morning, Pato had already scheduled to have everyone meet in the lobby so he could take them to the track for the day. YN had clearly told everyone about Maria because despite some odd looks no one asked about her and he was grateful for that. He didn’t think twice when everyone began to split into different cars and he pulled YN along with him, or when they arrived at the track and Pato sent most people up into a suite, but brought YN and his immediate family to the pits. Maybe that’s how it’s always been, and how it’s supposed to be.

Pato gets swept up in work for the rest of the day and YN gets to spend some real time with her second family. As soon as they’re alone, Elba doesn’t hesitate to start interrogating her.

“What happened with Maria?”

“Apparently she told Pato he’s in love with me and just left.” YN shrugs as she says it, still a little puzzled by the whole thing.

“Huh.”

“What? No ‘huh’ I know what that means just tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I just thought Maria knew by now and didn’t care, maybe she’s not as smart as I gave her credit for.”

“What do you mean? Knew what?”

“Come on, YN, Pato’s been in love with you since you were nine, I wouldn’t want to be dating him.”

YN is struggling to process what she’s hearing, and automatically turns to deflection. “He is not.”

“Oh my god.” Elba starts giggling maniacally.

YN has no clue what could be funny, “What!?”

“You’re in love with him too!”

“I am not!” Despite her refusal, YN can feel and Elba can see the heat rising up her neck.

“You totally are! All this time I thought you had to know it’s so obvious, I mean, he follows you around like a puppy, but you had no idea!”

“Ok, keep your voice down.” YN puts her hand over Elba’s mouth really not wanting anyone else to hear their conversation. “Even if I did like him, and I’m not saying I do, he does not feel the same. I mean you should’ve heard how hard he friendzoned me yesterday.”

Elba looks sympathetic then, “Babe, I think my brother has spent so long denying himself what he wants he doesn’t even know what that is anymore. I love him dearly, but relationships are not his strong suit.”

“Then I guess we’re at a stalemate because I am certainly not going to be the one to ruin our friendship.”

Elba’s exasperated, “Oh my god, you two are exhausting!”

By the time Elba finished her intervention, qualifying finished resulting in Pato getting the pole. Mclaren has been dominant the last few weekends, and this weekend is no different with all three cars in the fast six. Pato is in the driver’s lot, getting ready to head back to the hotel, everyone else had dispersed from the track, and Felix has tracked down Pato and is calling after him.

“Hey, Felix! What’s up?”

“Bro, you’re about to win this fucking thing.” There’s nothing but excitement from Felix for his best friend.

“I know, I just hope tomorrow is a clean race and we can bring this thing home.”

“You’ve got this, I know it. Hey, where’s Maria been all day?” Felix says it like he’s just realizing she’s not around.

“Who knows. Yesterday morning she woke up determined that I’m secretly in love with YN and got on the next plane out.”

“So you guys are done?”

“Yeah about as done as you can be.”

“And YN?”

“YN is my best friend.”

“No, I'm your best friend.”

“Sorry, Fro, even you lose to YN.”

“I don’t want to win what YN is winning.”

Pato rolls his eyes and stomps his foot, huffing, “And what exactly is YN winning?”

Felix puts his hands up in self-defense, “Listen, all I’m saying is if you looked at me like you do YN, I think Emille would feel threatened.”

“Very funny.” Pato kicks the ground, staring at his shoe, he thinks about his relationship with Felix versus his with YN, sure it’s different, but him and YN have so much history. “Look, I don’t know what I feel for YN, but I don’t care either because she’s too important as a friend for me to lose her.”

“Mate you’ve been practically dating for years, I don’t think making it official will ruin anything.”

With that last piece of advice Felix takes off, leaving Pato alone with his thoughts. The whole drive back to the hotel and the rest of the night he spent thinking about YN. If everyone closest to him is saying one thing, how could they all be wrong? He thinks about everything they’ve been through together.

His first win in karting when she was the first person he ran to when he got out of the car; how she comes to every family reunion and often traveled to Mexico to spend time with his family; their senior prom when she was sad about not having a date, but she was the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen that night; except for Christmas mornings when she’s in her pajamas and he gets to watch her eyes light up as they answer presents together. Maybe it’s been in front of him all along. What’s been missing from all of his other relationships has been right there.

It’s a lot to take in, but it doesn’t really matter because, like he told Felix, he wouldn’t risk their friendship if she doesn’t feel the same. He can handle a trail of failed relationships, but he could never handle losing YN. He went to bed that night knowing he had to just focus on the race and on bringing home the championship.

The next morning he’s awoken by a knock on the door. “Patricio! Open up, room service!”

He knows who’s behind the door before he opens it, there’s only one person who cares enough to bring him breakfast. When he lets YN in he sees the bag full of takeout food from a nearby diner. “Breakfast of champions, for the champion.”

Of course she’s already decided he’s a champion before the race. No one has ever believed in him as much as her. “Calm down, I don't want you to jinx me.”

“Au contraire my friend, a jinx would mean you’re winning by luck, and you are winning by sheer talent.”

It always amazes him how smart she is in the morning, he knows no more than 5 words for a solid hour after waking up, and she’s always speaking a million words a minute. “7AM is too early to be speaking another language.”

“Aw, pobrecito, ¿estás cansado?” She knew very minimal spanish, but had picked some up from time spent with his family, and used it pretty exclusively to tease him.

“You’re so not funny my brain hurts.” He is slouched over the table with his head resting on his arms.

She begins to unpack the food in front of him, “Alright, come on, time to wake up you’ve got a big day.”

The smell of eggs and bacon is what gets him to lift his head and start eating. He tries not to focus on the fact that she got him exactly what he eats every race day because that’s a can of worms he doesn’t want to touch. Regardless he eats the meal, and is sad when she pulls out her pancakes and begins to eat with him. She offers him a bite which he takes, but they both know he won’t eat any more than that because he doesn’t like big meals before a race.

After they finish, YN starts picking up their trash and Pato thanks her, “You take such good care of me, can’t believe you brought me breakfast I’m not worthy.” She’s glad for her back being turned to him because she can feel how much she’s blushing.

The rest of the day goes by in a blur, leave it to YN to be the eye in his hurricane, bringing calm before the storm. The race was close, a shitty pit stop meant Pato had to make some big passes to make up position, but Pato ended up pulling away with the final race win of the season and the championship.

YN and Elba leave the suite a few laps early so they can be on pit lane when he gets the win. After his victory lap and celebratory donuts he pulls into pit lane. Immediately his crew is flooding around him as he struggles to get out. Once he does there’s a giant group hug around Pato. Rossi and Fro also both make their way to his pits to congratulate him.

When Felix pulls Pato into a hug he whispers into his ear, “Why haven’t you gone to your girl yet, she’s waiting for you.”

Felix’s words had weight to them, all these people were surrounding him, but none of them had been on this journey with him as long as her. She waited for him for the last 15 years while he chased a career and different women, and now he’s at the peak of his career, having everything he ever wanted, and she’s not the one by his side. It hits him like a ton of bricks how bad he wants her to be the one celebrating this win with him, and every win for the rest of his life. Walking over to YN he pulls her into a hug, hoping that everything he’s feeling can be conveyed through the touch.

YN is in his ear, “I’m so proud of you, I always knew you could do it.”

He can’t find the right words, so all he says is, “I’m so glad you’re here.” he’ll explain later.

Holding her in front of thousands of people, Pato isn’t scared of losing their friendship anymore. He’s not sure of a lot, but he knows they’ll be ok, and that he’s loved her since before he knew what love was.

[sun-snatcher]

JUMPING IN IMMEEEEDIATELY because god I cannot help but think of Matt Fucking Murdock deciding that he hasn’t got a good enough grasp of what you look like after workinf with you for a while so asks to feel your face to learn by touch just!!!!!! Tender workplace tension bro

( beautiful gif, once again, from the incredible @chrlie-cox ! )

𖤓 ─ SUNNY-SIDE UP ! ; a drabble

summ. Nelson, Murdock & Page has a fresh-faced hire. pairing. matt murdock / secretary!f!reader - “Sunny” a/n. Supposed to be a blurb but got a little carried away with this one, so have a drabble instead! Potential series? Who knows.

MATT MURDOCK doesn’t get embarrassed or sheepish; I mean, he’s Daredevil for Christ’s sake. He spends his night cosplaying as a red-horned vigilante that beats criminals up in the name of justice. And let’s not even begin to discuss the irony of how he’s an unflappable pro-bono lawyer by day.

So you can only imagine Foggy’s surprise when his decade-long friend, who’s never had an issue with women back in their college-days, seemed to fumble apropos of you.

( Fawning, almost. Ducked smiles and nervous laughter and the like. )

You— the cheerful, bright-eyed, tenderfoot secretary hired by Nelson, Murdock & Page— who managed to iron out the administrative wrinkles and logistical kinks of the entire office within the first week of you being hired. 

You, who went out of your way to categorise the boxes of legal documents by case type and date, organised stacked client files and contact lists by alphabetical order, and took the time to digitise every document in the office, because: now you guys don’t have to pull long hours in here. Use technology! Go home! Shoo!

( Foggy tells Matt, half-horrified and half-impressed once upon a time: “She’s like Donna from Suits but… sunnier—”

“Hm,” Matt smiles, completely distracted in favour of listening to you titter with a client through the wall. Sunshine? he tries, No— Sunny. Yeah. The nickname suits you.

“—I once saw her type up four subpoena requests while convincing a client over the phone from dropping our firm by scheduling an appointment with them on the dot. And just the other day she handed me my motion documents before I even got the chance to ask!”

“Right after she fixed the old fax machine, too,” Karen adds in passing, “And that was before the coffee was even done brewing.” )

You’re a ‘shot of espresso’ or a ‘bath of sunlight’ or whatever the poets like to call it.

But, still. You’re Sunny. You’re, a woman. And Matt Murdock can be a womaniser when he needs to be, except— it kinda just… haywires around you, sometimes. 

It usually heads that way whenever you breeze past him, and he catches the bergamot scent of your perfume, the tray of coffee orders in your hands— Even worse when he hears your cadent voice lilt across the room:

Idle chatter with clientele; Hum of some pop-song from the radio underneath your breath; or when you throw your head back in a burst of musical laughter:

Light and radiant and warm and—

“Can I see you?” he blurts.

In the 8pm moonlight filtering through the office blinds, pouring over evidence of a defense case with him, you’re wide-eyed in bewilderment as you blink owlishly at Matt Murdock. 

“I don’t know,” you smile, humorously, “Can you?”

He huffs out a laugh from where he’s feeling the brailled tags of the filing cabinets, slotting in a dossier. ( Another beloved story of Matt’s: learning that you had meticulously braille-labelled each drawer and document title for him the first few weeks you’d joined. Christ, how did the office ever survive without you? )

 “I, I mean your face,” he explains, tilting his head. “I don’t know how you look like, so…”

Not that it matters, he thinks candidly. “May I?”

He raises his palm ever so slightly.

You worry your lip. Matt Murdock is a fine man with finer qualities and the finest face of Hell’s Kitchen— you’re not sure your poor heart can handle having his hands roving over your face, especially when Karen’s almost caught you admiring them far too many times to count. Nevertheless:

“Sure. You’ll be sorely disappointed, though,” you shrug, rising from your seat to stretch as you move towards him. “Not the prettiest mug ‘round here.”

He wrinkles his nose. “Hm. Somehow I highly doubt that.”

Your heart rate is speeding up. Matt’s just glad you’re just as shy about this as he is. 

He twitches his finger and you quietly meet his hand halfway. 

The contact buzzes through him like a bolt. 

Here, he hears you whisper. Guiding. Patient. His fingers skate your cheeks— flushed warm from his settling compliment. 

Then he drifts: your ears and temples, the arch of your brows, the dip of your nose bridge. He thumbs across your lashes and down the divot of your lips, tracing its shape and picturing every curve and detail in his mind’s eye.

It’s intriguing to witness and experience all at once. You’re not sure if a blind man could admire— but there’s a softness to his touch and a lightness in his caress that might be it; nigh reverent.

It’s painfully intimate. 

He brushes a strand away. Rests his palm at your jawline and skirts the juncture of your neck.

You want to lean into his touch. He wants to lean into you.

The proximity is intoxicating.

“You’re beautiful.”

A barely-there murmur; drowned in sincere affection.

He can feel your cheeks dig into a timid smile, and he can’t help but dimple at you too. “Hi, Sunny,” he greets, playfully. “I’m Matt Murdock.”

The laugh that bubbles out of you makes his heart sing. 

You’re reaching for his wrist to steady yourself and ducking into his shoulder as you do, and he hopes to God you can’t hear the thunder of his heart against his ribs. 

“You’re not too shabby yourself, Mr. Murdock,” you titter, catching your lip. “But I’m sure you hear that all the time.”

“Oh, yeah,” he waves, making a dismissive face, “All the time.”

You laugh again. 

And good fucking God—

He wants to get drunk on the sound of it.

— send in a blurb request !

[evanbi-ckley]

Do you think about Tommy and Evan getting so serious that Tommy becomes integrated with the Buckley-Hans? Do you think about Maddie, being close in age to Tommy, befriending her younger brother's hot pilot partner and being the sister he never had? Do you think Tommy and his old pal Howie, the guy who saved his life? Do you think about how adorable Tommy would be with Jee-Yun? And how much the little one would love her Uncle Tommy? Coz I do. A lot.

uhhhh yeah, you could say i think about it a little

maddie ropes him into helping her in the kitchen as often as possible (which he loves, of course), and one of the highlights for her is getting to talk about evan with someone who loves him almost as much as she does because she has sooooooooooo many stories about little daredevil evan, and tommy is horrified at first ("evan, you fell out of a tree??" "what do you mean you crashed your motorcycle, evan?????") but over time he learns why baby evan felt so alone and tried to get his parents' attention any way he could

chimney and tommy get to talking about the old 118 and what it was like with gerrard and how tommy used to act because of that environment. then tommy keeps talking to evan but looks at chim and says, "i'd be dead without howie. and not just because of the explosion. it wasn't until he joined that i finally started to see the light at the end of whatever tunnel i was trapped in with the old 118"

jee-yun of course loves her "unca tommy!" because he's big and strong and makes a great jungle gym. but he's also willing to sit and have tea with her and her dolls and let do his hair and put makeup on him. and one day she paints his fingernails bright pink (her personal favorite), and he doesn't take it off before his shift the next day but instead shows everyone how talented his niece is with the biggest smile on his face

yeah...i think about it a little lot

[trulyunholy]

a northern wind

daredevil x reader

rating: M

word count: 3.5k

notes: this is only my second daredevil/matt murdock fic, and this one was intended to be a one-shot but i’m kind of obsessed with the idea of it. it came from my unhinged obsession with the black suit and i’m not sorry.

The acrid smell of cigarettes lingered outside, wafting out the propped open door of the bar. Sounds of drunk laughter and clacking billiard balls could still be heard as you took in a deep breath of the fresh, cool autumn air. You pulled your jacket closer to your body against the slight chill of the wind.

“You sure you don’t need a ride?” Laura called to you as she stood halfway out the doorway.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you told her over your shoulder. “Just have fun and be safe, okay?”

“You stay safe, too! And text me as soon as you’re home,” she added before she stepped back through the doorway and out of sight.

One drink. That’s what the two of you had met up for at the beginning of the night. But then Laura ran into some of her friends from work, and one drink turned into several, followed up by rounds of shots.

You enjoyed the company, always enjoyed the chance to get out of your own head for a bit. But you had work early in the morning, and staying out until sunrise was not on your agenda. So you decided to walk home. It wasn’t a far walk, and it wasn’t terribly cold.

The smell of smoke finally cleared the farther you got from the bar, taken over by the smells of the city. Gasoline from the street, fresh bread from a nearby bakery, and the faintest smell of garbage somewhere in the background of it all. You loved this city, loved the closeness of everything and the ability to hide yourself among so many people.

The wind bit at your face, which was still feeling warm from the alcohol. The only sound above the monotonous bustling of every night was the surprisingly steady footfall of your boots on the sidewalk.

A different sound caught your attention several minutes into your walk, though. It was a distant sound, like feet shuffling quickly and men talking loudly. Your hand, shoved into your coat pocket, wrapped tightly around the small container of pepper spray, the one you kept with you anytime you were out by yourself. It wasn’t that you didn’t feel safe here, it’s just that you never wanted to take a chance.

Your grip grew tighter the closer the noise got. Then you saw them, a group of men ahead of you, running in your direction. The panic in your chest was short lived, though, as soon as you realized they weren’t running at you. They were running away, from something or someone that was chasing them.

The men scuffled and nearly fell over each other trying to escape whatever was pursuing them. You stopped, frozen in place, unsure of whether to watch the action unfold or to run away yourself. But as soon as the group came across an alleyway about one hundred feet ahead of you, they turned into it sharply, out of sight.

A flash of movement followed, nothing more than a dark blur in your watery vision. You couldn’t make out any shape or feature, and your drunkenness did you no favors. The sounds of a fight came from the other side of the building in front of you, grunting and hits landing on flesh.

You knew you should’ve run. You should have turned around and left and gone as far in the opposite direction as you could. But you didn’t. You were curious. The alcohol had impaired your judgment far more than you first thought. The men, who seemed to have posed no threat to you anyway, had all run off by the time you rounded the corner into the alleyway.

Only one person remained, leaning on the brick wall of the building and nearly doubled over, catching their breath.

You’d heard the stories of vigilantes taking over the city, or superhuman strength and mystical powers. There wasn’t a person you knew who hadn’t heard them. But you weren’t sure you believed any of it. Tales of invincibility and magic seemed too far-fetched.

But in Hell’s Kitchen, the local watchdog felt more believable. Nothing more than a man who dressed in black and beat the shit out of criminals that the justice system couldn’t catch. It still sounded like fiction, but it was at least in the realm of reality.

Now, though. Now you were sure the stories were true. A man in all black, breathing hard after chasing some group of ne’er-do-wells. Maybe the stories were true.

“Holy shit.”

Your voice seemed to startle him, and his stance changed, tensed and taut like a cat that was cornered and ready to flee.

“Wait!” you called out to him, voice admittedly a little too loud.

You weren’t sure why you asked him to wait. He had no reason to listen to you. But you were fascinated, hypnotized by this mystery man, this myth come to life.

To your surprise, he did stop. The air was as tense as it was harsh, beating on the exposed skin of your face. A heavy weight began to build in your chest as you realized you had no idea what to say, what to do.

“Are you…?”

What the hell were you going to ask? ‘Are you that superhero guy I keep hearing stories about?’ ‘Do you really run around town all night and just fight crime like it’s your job?’ ‘Who are you under that mask?’

Everything sounded ridiculous in your head. You were fumbling over your own thoughts, trying to think of something, anything to say to keep him there. Why, you weren’t sure.

Giving up on any question you could have formed, you took a step toward him instead. He reacted fast, poised like a threatened animal, ready to flee or to pounce, you weren’t sure which. But looking him over, taking his n his body underneath the black, his sharp jaw below the mask, you weren’t sure which you were about to do, either.

“Are you real?” you asked, cursing yourself immediately for the clumsiness of your words, the slight slur in your voice.

He smirked, though, his lips twitching up into the faintest of a smug smile you could barely see in the dim glow of the streetlights.

“Well, this isn’t a dream, if that’s what you’re asking,” he shot back, his voice low and smooth as velvet.

“That’s not what I was asking,” you replied, fighting through the haze of inebriation. “Though I don’t think this scenario would be classified as a dream.”

“A nightmare, then,” he added easily.

As you took another cautious step closer, you saw his body relax a little, his muscles loosen from the tension of fight or flight.

“Yeah, a nightmare, then,” you said teasingly, though you couldn’t hide the curiosity there, too.

You weren’t sure if it was the adrenaline of what you’d just seen or the one-too-many shots you’d had at the bar, but you felt bold, bolder than you had any right to feel. You kept walking toward him until he was an arm’s length away. He didn’t move an inch, still as a statue, his head cocked in a way that made you think he was curious, too. When you stopped, you looked him up and down, admiring the glisten in the exposed skin of his throat.

“My kind of nightmare, too,” you said. “Or maybe it is a dream.”

His expression was hard to read with his eyes hidden from view, but the way his tongue shot over his lips, the way his lips began to form a bold grin, you could make a pretty good guess.

“You dream about this kind of thing often?” he asked, his voice somehow lower now. His tone was teasing, testing, lofty. “Of approaching strange men in dark alleyways?”

“Only the cute ones.” Your heart was beating hard in your chest now, and you could feel a heat rise to your face, rush through your body. “Or the heroes.”

“So which am I?” he asked, his tone daring you to answer.

“You tell me.”

Face warm against the chill, body tensed and stomach tight, you closed the space between you with one final step. But the moment you reached a hand toward him, unsure of what you were even going to do, his hand on your wrist in a heartbeat, scaring you half to death.

“Don’t.” His voice was demanding now, his grip strong against you, and his velvet dark voice sent sparks through your veins.

“Okay,” you conceded quickly, though his words did nothing to deter you. “A man with a secret. What do you have to hide?”

Your question wasn’t accusatory. You weren’t demanding any information. Somehow you knew he wouldn’t give it to you even if you were. His grip on your wrist did not loosen, and his mouth fell into a tense line.

After a moment, silence broken only by the sound of your breathing, he let go. As soon as he did, your hands found their way to his chest, your fingers tracing his collarbone jutting out from under the slick black fabric of his shirt. A heavy breath escaped him at your touch, as if he could feel the heat inside of you escaping through your fingertips.

“I don’t have to see you to kiss you, do I?”

He remained still as your fingers trailed across his chest, up, up, up, until they found a place on the back of his neck. His skin was hot and almost sticky, and you could feel the softness of hair peeking out from underneath his mask. He had no response, the smug attitude from only moments before disappearing as he swallowed hard.

“Can I kiss you?” you asked as you leaned in closer to him, your voice barely above a whisper.

A long, silent moment slips between the two of you as you wait for his response, your fingers digging into the back of his neck with the slightest hint of pressure.

When he finally answered, his voice was almost lost behind the pounding of your own heart in your ears. But the hot puff of breath and the movement of his lips told you everything you needed to know.

“Yes.”

Another beat, another silent second before you broke the tension and kissed him. His lips were unmoving underneath yours, still, unsure. But when you closed the space between your bodies, too, thighs against thighs, chest against chest, he relaxed into your touch.

Muscle and skin was warm underneath your touch as your hand slid down to his shoulders. Fingernails dug through fabric into skin, and his reaction to the slight pressure seemed huge. His arms were around you quickly, one hand finding a place on your lower back. He straightened himself, and when he pushed away from the wall and into you, you nearly had to stretch to reach him. And you decided you would do whatever you had to do to reach him again, to chase after the head-spinning high of a simple kiss.

Heat rose in the pit of your stomach, your heart taking too much space in your chest with just how fast it was beating. When he kissed you again, it was different, it was something hotter and hurried. His lips parted, and you took the opportunity to explore, to lick and to taste and to take. When he did the same, and you felt the wet warmth of his tongue, you couldn’t resist nip him. It wasn’t a bite, not really, and certainly not enough to hurt. But he pulled back anyway, his mouth settling into a sort of frown. Surprise, you think.

“Sorry,” you offered, intonation like a question.

But then his smirk was back, lips tilted into a devilish smile that sent chills down your spine. Before you knew it, your back was against the brick and he was pinning you there, hands on your hips, digging into the wall. You tried to find his face with your hand, desperate to touch him again, but he stopped you again.

“Relax,” you told him, breathless. “I’m not interested in unmasking you.”

After only a short moment of consideration he let go, and his hand found your hair instead. His palm cradled the back of your head, fingers twined through your hair as if he’s holding you there, as if he’s making sure you don’t get away.

You didn’t want to get away.

“What are you interested in?” he asked as he leaned in close, his breath hot on your face despite the visible cloud that forms in the night air.

“Whatever you’ll give me.”

Your eyes flicked back to his lips, then to the black of the mask over his eyes, only inches away. You wondered how he saw through that thing, considering you couldn’t see his eyes at all. But in the moment, you didn’t care. Not while his hands were back on you, his body pressing yours into the rough brick, his fingers still tangled in your hair.

A little too roughly, his lips crashed back into yours, the fingers in your hair pulling as they tensed. A short moan escaped your lips at the feeling, and he nearly growled his approval at the sound, a rumbling that sounded like it was coming from deep in his chest, something primal and feral and full of need.

Suddenly you decided that you needed more of him, that you had to have as much of him as close to you as possible. Your hands snaked around his body, roaming down his back before grabbing his ass and pushing yourself even closer to his. Something hard dug into the softness of your belly, but you didn’t stop to figure out what it was.

It almost hurt, the way he kissed you so hard you felt like there would be no air left in your lungs, the way he wouldn’t let you break away for air. When you did try, he pushed you back into the wall, his hand on your head cushioning it from the brick. And he held you there, his lips never letting up, lips and tongue and teeth all melding together into one warm, wet sensation. You’d never been kissed like that before. You had a feeling you might never be kissed like that again.

Anonymous hookups in bar bathrooms wasn’t foreign to you, but this, this felt different. There was a fire burning bright and hot in your stomach, seeping heat out of your every pore. There was a passion, a desire behind the man’s every movement that was hard to describe. He could take you right here in this alleyway and you knew you wouldn’t feel a bit of shame afterwards.

His hands moved from your head to the back of your neck, and you nearly gulped in the cool night air as his fingers traced feather soft trails down the fabric of your coat. He leaned down and kissed you again, but it was softer, slower, with no less heat behind it than before. It was just a different heat, a simmer instead of a boil. But it was just as hot.

He pushed your coat open and had his fingers in your waist in the same motion. His hand felt cold through the fabric of your top, but the goosebumps erupting across your skin had nothing to do with the cold. His teeth caught your lower lip and he bit just hard enough to sting, and the noise you made was closer to a whimper than a moan. You were already falling apart, and you should have been embarrassed. But you weren’t. Somehow it only spurred you on more.

His hand found your hips and his nimble fingers immediately pushed up your shirt. You nearly flinched when he made contact with your bare skin, but you didn’t mind, and he didn’t stop. You were hot, you couldn’t breathe, and you had never been so turned on in your life.

Rough fingers on exposed skin, touch light and fast and he mapped you out. You had no idea what you were doing, making out with a total stranger in an alleyway in the middle of the night. Was it the alcohol, the adrenaline, the fact that this man in the black suit risked his life to save people and bring justice to a city that so desperately needed it, and just so happened to look damn good while doing it? Not even an hour before, you were doubting the validity of vigilantes in the city. Now, you were eager to repay the hero for the risks he took nightly.

You were finally able to catch your breath as his mouth moved from your lips to your jaw, and he started a trail down your neck, kissing and licking and biting in turns. Rough stubble tickled your skin as you closed your eyes, desperate to focus on nothing but the sensation of his mouth as he found a spot at the base of your neck that had you squirming underneath him. You were getting so worked up, so desperate, you could feel the heat growing in your stomach and the desire building between your legs.

Mouth still at the pulse point on your throat, his hand finally rested at the waist of your pants, fingers testing the fabric, dipping underneath and tugging carefully. Throwing your head back wantonly, a sting of pain rang through your head, but it barely even registered. Everything you were feeling was becoming too much, and you couldn’t help but moan again, this time louder and without regard for anything else around you. You heard the man chuckle into your skin, a dark sound that you were sure came from the way he was pleased to be tearing you apart.

Your eyes still closed, your hands felt wildly for any purchase they could, landing on the expanse of his back. When his fingers moved on your waistband, and you could feel his fingers lingering by the button of your pants, your breathing was hard, your heart was beating so fast it hurt, and your fingernails dug into him hard. It wasn’t intentional, but when he let out a low moan so beautiful it shot straight to your core, you knew you had to do it again. So you did, scratching lines down his shoulder blade and into his spine. He buried his face in the crook of your neck and you could feel hot breath on your skin. You felt delirious.

Then your phone rang. It was so piercingly loud in the quiet of the alleyway that you nearly screamed, startled. The stranger jumped, immediately putting space between the two of you.

“Shit!” you cursed, trying to remember which pocket you’d stuffed your phone into before leaving the bar. When you finally found it two rings later, you cursed again at the lit up screen. It was Laura. “I’m sorry, I gotta take this,” you told the stranger without taking your eyes off the screen.

When you answered, your ears were immediately hit with the quick, loud voice of your friend, demanding to know where you were and why you hadn’t texted her yet. You sighed, wanted to roll your eyes, frustrated at her even though she didn’t know what she had just interrupted.

Laura was still going on about something, her words almost slurred to the point of incoherence, when you turned to address the stranger. What the hell you planned on saying to him, you weren’t sure. But when you turned around, he was gone. You were alone in the alley and he was nowhere to be seen. No evidence that he had ever been there in the first place, save your open coat and mussed hair.

You didn’t know what you expected. You sighed and told Laura that you’d call her back as soon as you got home. You were only a couple of minutes away from your apartment anyway. As you hung up and shoved the phone back in your pocket, you wrapped your coat around you again, smoothed down your hair, and headed back to the sidewalk. Your boots hit the pavement hard as you walked, but you could barely hear them over the sound of blood rushing in your ears. You weren’t sure whether to feel disappointed or excited or incredibly turned on. In truth, you felt a mixture of the three churning uncomfortably in your stomach.

You kept your eyes up as you took the last few blocks home, looking around in an inane hope that you might catch sight of him again.

Part of you hoped that he’d find you again, that you could finish what you started. If all the stories were true, you knew he was still out there, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he watched you as you walked home, if he watched you as you got to the door of your apartment building. The brass doorknob was cold in your hand as you hesitated to turn it, looking around one last time. Nothing but lamp posts and telephone poles and the darkness beyond it all. But you couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes on your back when you finally opened the door and stepped into the warmth of the building.

——

this hasn’t been proofread by anybody but me, so sorry for any errors or inconsistencies. comments and constructive criticism is always welcome!

find it on ao3 here!

[babyhatesreality]

Does Whatever A Spider Can

Pairing: Daddy!Stucky x little f!reader

Summary: You’ve spent the day with Peter. And picked up some new habits...

A/N: So I have like 9 WIPs and I swear I will get to them but this woke me up at 4 am and I can’t let it go sooooooooo :D

Warnings: DD-LG (SSC), f! reader, reader is named but name scarcely used, language, reader is a bit of a daredevil, grumpy totally not jealous Daddy, threat of punishment, fluffity fluff fluff fluff.

YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. THIS STORY IS SFW- THE REST OF MY BLOG IS NOT NECESSARILY SO. MINORS DNI. I DO NOT CONSENT FOR MY WORK TO BE STOLEN, COPIED, OR TRANSLATED ONTO ANY OTHER SITE BUT MY OWN. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated.

Bucky knew it was a mistake before they even dropped you off. 

Fury had a mission for him, Steve, and Natasha- one that required both diplomacy and stealth, hence all three of them being called up. It was to be a quick one, so Steve asked Pepper if you could hang out with her and Peter for the day. You were so excited- you had been missing hanging out with your bestie one-on-one and this was the perfect opportunity. You begged Daddy to let you wear your favorite shortalls with your favorite pink shirt, as this was a special occasion. He of course obliged you, but something didn’t hit him right at that- you never wanted to dress up for anything that wasn’t Halloween. 

You were so excited when you got to Tony’s apartment that you barely remembered to say goodbye to your daddies after hurtling yourself at Peter, who caught you in a huge hug. Bucky had to holler goodbye loudly to get you to realize that they were leaving, at which point you detached yourself from your bestie. You ran back to the both of them, giving them big, hard hugs and a sloppy kiss on the cheek. You giggled and raced away with Peter, ready to begin your adventure. 

Bucky was a bit nonplussed at your behavior, but Steve was chuckling. “Looks like the two of them are going to be nice and worn out by the end of the day,” he grinned at Pepper. She laughed once, low. 

“Hopefully, there’s enough caffeine in this apartment for me to keep up with them,” she joked back. “You all be careful, see you tonight.”

The mission went perfectly well, exactly as they’d all hoped. But Bucky couldn’t keep his mind off you. He felt a confusing stab of jealousy remembering your eagerness to spend the day with Peter, but he shut that down immediately. That was ridiculous. He wasn’t jealous. You were HIS baby, you...just were excited, that’s all. You’d be just as excited to see him when he came back. Right? 

And you were. Just not the way he expected. 

They picked you up (literally- Bucky couldn’t stand to not possessively have you in his arms after the entire day) from the Starks. Pepper was happy to report that you’d been an angel all day- you and Peter had come to the table the first time she’d called, eaten your lunches, went down for naps without complaints. Outside of that, the two of you had been in Peter’s playroom all day, giggling and playing and having a grand time. Steve and Bucky thanked Pepper profusely, and after you all said goodbye, headed home. 

Steve rubbed your back and kissed your cheek. “I’m so proud of you for being such a good girl today, angel,” he said, grinning from ear to ear. 

You wiggled in pleasure. “Me and Petey had so much fun today, Papa! We did ALL the things!”

“Yeah? What did you do?”

“ALL the things!”

Steve laughed at your joy, and Bucky bounced you a bit, feeling better having you so near. You turned your attention to him. “Daddy, Petey showed me how he sticks to da walls!!” 

“He did, did he?” Bucky said, a red flag suddenly popping up in his brain. You hadn’t earned your nickname ‘Trouble’ for no reason... 

“Yeah, he’s sooooo good at it. Imma learn to stick to walls too!”

“Yeah, not gonna happen, Trouble. I ain’t letting you within ten feet of some souped-up science spider.”

“I don’t wanna do it like THAT! Silly Daddy.”

“Then how exactly are you planning on sticking to the walls?”

“I gonna ask Unca Tony to make me something to stick to walls!”

“No, you’re not,” Bucky said, suddenly grumpy. He gave Steve an annoyed look when Steve failed to hide a small snort of laughter. Steve immediately tried to smooth his face out, but he couldn’t quite get one corner of his mouth to turn down. He looked back at you with his best Daddy Eye. “You could get hurt, and you know that’s against the rules.”

“But Petey doesn’t get hurt! And I watcheded him fall lots today. You hafta fall on the SOFT things so you don’t get hurt,” you explained patiently, thinking that Daddy just simply didn’t understand how it all worked. You were more than happy to educate him. 

Bucky just sighed. Hopefully, once they got you home and got you distracted by your own toys and maybe a bribe or two  that you’d drop it. 

Silly Daddy. 

The second you entered the apartment, they got your shoes off you and your feet hit the floor. You raced into the living room, eager to show them what you learned. Steve didn’t even have time to remind you to not run before you reached your destination. You clambered up onto the big sectional sofa, standing on the cushions. “See?? Watch what I can do!”

“Hey! Get down, right now,” Bucky scolded loudly, but you’d already begun your descent. You flung your body into the soft cushions, giggling madly. You popped your head up, grinning wildly. 

“See? I fall on the SOFT things!” you said triumphantly. You scrambled up and flung yourself down again, laughing like crazy. Suddenly, you felt yourself swooped up into a pair of strong arms. 

“I’m very glad that you learned to fall on soft thing, kitten,” Papa said, nuzzling your nose with his and smiling. “But this is starting to look like when you ran into the sliding glass door. Remember that?”

You blinked up at him innocently. “But Papa, dat was HARD. Dis is SOFT.”

“And you can sometimes get hurt on the soft things, too. You don’t want to get hurt again, do you? We don’t do dangerous things, right?”

“Right, Papa!” you said, eager to please. But you had to add, “But dis doesn’t hurt?” You were confused as to why this was maybe dangerous.

“Tell you what- we can make a pillow pile later and fall into that together. That way, Daddy and Papa can make sure you don’t get hurt and we can all play together. Does that sound good?”

“Yeah! Is good!!”

“Okay then. So no more falling into the couch cushions right now. Got it?”

“Got it, Papa!” 

“Good girl. I’m going to go shower, why don’t you tell Daddy about the rest of your time with Peter today?” Steve said, failing to hide his grin at the increasingly grumpy look on Bucky’s face as he watched the two of you. He knew Bucky would rather keep you from flinging yourself around altogether, but the odds of you not doing that were now slim to none. At least this way, they had a measure of control over it. Steve pecked Bucky on the mouth cheekily as he passed you to him and got a grunt in return. He laughed as he made his way to the shower. 

Bucky sat down on the sofa to cuddle you into his lap. You stayed for exactly three seconds before wiggling away and standing up on the couch again. “Hey! What did Papa just say?” he scolded again, hands darting out to hold you in place. 

“He said no falling,” you replied innocently. “I not gonna fall, Daddy.”

“You might if you stand on the couch cushions. Don’t do it again.”

“But-”

“I said no. No climbing, no falling, no...flinging. Got it?”

“But what about da pillows later?”

“That’s later. Right now, just...don’t. No climbing. None.”

“You no fun,” you pouted, plopping down on your bottom, adorable consternation on your face. Before Bucky could figure out a way to prove that he was fun- he was Sergeant Daddy, after all- his phone rang. Out of pure annoyance, he stood up and answered it. “What?” he snarled into it, turning his back to you so you wouldn’t get upset at his tone. 

You took this opportunity to crawl up onto the top of the sofa, like you’d watched Petey do to the walls today, just because you simply could not sit still. You crawled along the area that was against the wall and turned the corner to the part that was separating the living room from the dining room, moving stealthily like a superhero. You felt so awesome and it was so much fun! Until your left hand slipped. 

You let out a squeak of surprise as you fell, bracing yourself for the impact. But it never came. 

A silver hand shot out over the back of the couch, snatching the back straps of your shortalls when you were a mere two inches above the ground. You felt yourself being lifted up, up, up, until you were nose to nose with a very displeased looking Daddy. You smiled at him and waved happily. 

“I’m going to have to call you back,” he growled into the phone, then tossed it on the couch. He kept you dangling in the air with the stern look on his face. “What did I just tell you not thirty seconds ago?” he said, his tone indicating that he was not to be messed with right now. That sobered you up in an instant. 

“No climbing on the sofa,” you replied meekly from your mid-air position.  

“So you wanna give me a reason why you deliberately disobeyed me the moment my back was turned?”

“I didn’t, Daddy!”

“Excuse me?!”

“I didn’t climb on the sofa!”

“Oh really? Now you’re gonna try to lie about it?”

“No! Not lying! I didn’t climb on it. I crawled on it.” You smiled sweetly at him, tilting your head in that adorable way that he couldn’t resist. 

Bucky’s face morphed from furious to resigned in an instant. You were well and truly nicknamed. “Trouble,” he said wearily, still holding you aloft. “How about you just TELL me what you and Peter did today? If you keep trying to demonstrate it, you’re gonna give me heart failure.”

“Okay, Daddy! Can I sit in your lap and tell you all the things?” 

Bucky took comfort in that, trying to hold onto the fact that you wanted to be close to him and tell him everything instead of the ridiculous jealousy that was trying to worm its way in every time you mentioned that little shit Peter’s name. He plopped you down on his lap and cuddled you as you excitedly shared your adventures with him. 

Meanwhile, Steve had stuffed a washcloth in his mouth while in the shower to keep Bucky from hearing him laugh. His grumpy, grumpy love. 

[amhrosina]

Hiii

I LOVE your work, and I was wonderful if you could write something with hurt/comfort with Matt Murdock?

Like you were coming home late and someone was following you home, and Matt hears you heart beat and comes to find you juste before the creepy person makes a move on you? And the reader is like “I’m fine, I’m okay” even tho she crying very hard and can’t breathe and Matt is like “no you’re not, but it’s okay I’ll take care of you” and then he takes care of reader and it’s fluff and comfort?

Thank youuuuu

Savior (Matt Murdock x Reader)

A/N: Hiiii! Thank you for reading! It's a short ficlet, but I ended up really liking how it turned out! Also, Charlie Cox is so, so PRETTY. A special thank you to my beta reader @wheredidiputmyfish for being so great! <3 (Word Count: 1.0k)

MASTERLIST // JOIN MY TAGLIST

You didn’t fully comprehend the predicament you were in until it changed from sketchy to dangerous. Hell’s Kitchen was especially quiet that night, though the argument could be made that it never fully went to sleep. Bodegas, laundromats, and diners stayed open late into the night, and it was the light spilling from their fogged windows that lit your route home.  

You knew Matt wouldn’t be happy with your decision to walk home alone. He’d warned you time and time again to wait for him, or get a taxi if he wasn’t around, but taxis were expensive, and he hadn’t answered your call earlier. Now, you cursed yourself for not waiting. 

The man behind you had been following you for thirteen blocks – you'd counted in nervous breaths – and he was gaining on you. You walked at an increasingly rapid pace, heart thundering as you blindly dug through your bag for the pepper spray Foggy had gifted you when you’d moved to the city. It was big and a stark blue, with the words “I Heart NY” stamped around it, but your hands were shaking so badly that even if you could find it in the black hole that was your tote bag, you weren’t sure you’d be able to use it.

You turned the corner, nervously glancing at the stranger out of the corner of your eye, and almost yelped at the proximity he had gained. He was within ten feet of you, and you didn’t give yourself a chance to hesitate before you took off running. 

“Hey!” He called. 

You ignored him, pushing your legs to move faster. You could see the entrance to your building, a tiny speck in the distance, and you prayed Matt was close enough to hear your racing heart. The man’s feet pounded on the concrete behind you, and you let out a wild shriek that you hoped would alert someone nearby. If it was heard by anyone, they didn’t make it known. You were alone, and the man was so close to you now that you knew you’d be grabbed by him before you could make it to the safety of your building.  

Arms wrapped around your middle, hauling you into an alley. You began shrieking at the top of your lungs, if only to make it harder for your attacker to get away with whatever he planned to do. 

“Leave me alone! Stop!” You fought with all your might, swinging and kicking wildly in front of you in a last-ditch effort to get away. “Get off me, you fucking creep!”  

Hands cradled your face. 

“It’s me. It’s me, sweetheart.” Matt’s smooth voice coaxed your eyes open. You hadn’t even realized they were closed. “You’re safe, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” 

You blinked up at him in relief. Your heart thundered in your chest, making it hard to breathe. He wasn’t in his Daredevil suit, but the way he clenched his jaw told you that the Devil was itching to come out and play.  

“There was a man,” you started, voice scratchy from the screams you’d let out, “He was following me. I-I know I should’ve waited for you to come get me, but I didn’t want to bother you and then this guy showed up and I was trying to find the pepper spray but-” You were rambling now, gulping in air and waving your arms around as you explained.  

“Are you okay?” Matt asked, softly caressing the curve of your cheekbone.  

“Yeah.” You nodded. The lie tasted ashy on your tongue.  

“You’re crying, sweetheart.”  

“I-I’m fine.” You stuttered, attempting to blink the tears away. “I’m fine.” You tried again, but your voice wobbled as the words left your lips. You couldn’t tell if you were trying to convince him or yourself at that point. Matt nodded along with you, kissing your temple.  

“Let’s get you home, okay? You’re safe now. No one will ever hurt you again, okay? I’ve got you.” He led you to the apartment you shared with him, only letting go when you sunk into the cushions of the couch. “I’m going to make you some tea, okay?” 

“Okay.” Your voice was wispy, barely audible to anyone besides Matt, who had tuned himself to you so thoroughly that you sometimes felt like he could read your thoughts. Like right then, as the thought entered your brain, and he responded before you could even finish the thought. Some Chamomile tea would be grea- 

“Is Chamomile alright?” He called, clinking the mug against the counter. 

“Yeah, Matty. Thank you.” You breathed through your anxiety and wondered what happened to the man who’d been following you. 

- 

Later that evening, after he’d drawn you a bath and tucked you into bed, the Devil finally got what he wanted. Matt hadn’t mentioned it to you, but he’d been diligently tracking the stranger’s heartbeat since he’d intervened earlier that evening, and as soon as your heartbeat evened out, suggesting your deep slumber, Matt was jumping across rooftops towards the irregular heartbeat he’d been listening to all evening.  

He wasn’t sure what he was going to do once he got his hands on the guy who had followed you earlier. The blood curdling scream you’d let out was indication enough of your fear, and it echoed in Matt’s ears as he got closer to his target. 

He wouldn’t kill the man. That wasn’t a line Matt was willing to cross, but the thought certainly crossed his mind. If he’d put his hands on you, touched you with his filthy awfulness, Matt might’ve been angry enough to do it, though, and that terrified him. He’d never been so close to murder before, besides maybe with Fisk, but no one fucked with you and got away with it. He wouldn’t kill the guy, but he’d hurt him. Badly.  

Matt took a deep breath and let the Devil creep out. May God have mercy on the stranger’s soul, because the Devil surely wouldn’t.

Tag List:

@xleiaorgana @mukbee @soft-emo-enby @purple-amaranthe @kokoterainonago666 @blackwidownat2814 @minervadashwood @emiemiemiii @h4rrys @messymissy @mylifeispainandiloveit @mossexe @alina02 @spikedhe4rt @fictional-hooman @thedevilwearsblack @merleisapartygod @legocity2 @violet-19999 @quackson03 @certifiedhunter @shoxji @layazul @dumb-fawkin-bitch @americaarse @lazyxsquirrel @honeysucklepotter @m0nster-fvcker @matthewmurdockswhore @thatgirljayy @hiyabyeyababy @scoliobean @infinityisbright @myguiltypleasures21 @thegirlwiththeeyes1297 @goddesspsyche @mxxnligxt @ladamari68 @dnxgma @evyiione @twsssmlmaa @gpenguin666 @desert-fern @day-dreaming-goddess @alexxavicry @hallecarey1 @km-ffluv @chiaraxtargaryen @trulylavandedarling @D0wnbad @deliciousfestsalad @lilyevans1 @22carolina08 @definitelynotsugar @casualchaoticdevil @peachy-flxwr @nashja @xshewayout @blep--bloop @kpopgirlbtssvt

[rhaecerys-velaryo]

Bodyguard!Ghost x MafiaPrincess!Reader

part two

Summary: Ghost is the newly hired bodyguard for y/n and he's the type to never take no for an answer. It's his way or the high way. However, y/n is a little spoiled and you are determined to go to your best friend's birthday party even if it means flirting with your new bodyguard.

Warning: a bit of a spoiled brat and whiny y/n but nothing too much.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

"It's a no for you, y/n. You are not allowed to party tonight," Ghost said as his body leaned on the doorframe, towering over you.

He had his hunky arms crossed as his deep ocean eyes stared at yours. He's the recently-hired bodyguard recruited by your father. Unfortunately, he is quite annoying and overly controlling.

"Now, go back to your room or else..." his tone was stern and commanding, making it clear that you would face consequences if you disobeyed him.

"But it's boring in my room!" y/n whined a little. "And what's the use of a bodyguard like you when you can't protect me without locking me up like some kind of prisoner!" You were already ready in your red bodycon dress and overcoat, your five inch heels did nothing against the bodyguard's tall height.

He couldn't help but chuckle at your little outburst. You looked incredibly cute when you were upset, especially with your pouting face and your tiny frame compared to his large muscular build. But that didn't change his firm stance.

"I am protecting you by not letting you go out and do God knows what." He responded eith his gruff voice

He pushed himself off the doorframe and stepped closer to you, his eyes narrowing. "You're not going anywhere tonight."

"I doubt I'm the worst hire you had. I rarely go out and it's not like I'm a daredevil. Come on....whatever your name is. I'll be a good girl." Y/n tried to convince him with your infamous puppy eyes. "It's just that it's my best friend's birthday party and I always go every year, you can even ask my father about that."

Damn her and her cute puppy eyes.

Ghost grumbled as he glanced away from you, his tough exterior faltering for a moment. He was trained to withstand psychological warfare, but even he was a sucker for puppy eyes.

His voice still retained some of its authoritativeness, though.

"Don't try to charm me, little one," he warned. "And it's 'Ghost'. Just Ghost."

Y/n mirked internally and pouted up at him. "That's a cool alias. Ghost." Unexpectedly, you leaned forward and left a gentle touch on his shoulder with your hands. "I'm not trying to charm you, I'm just stating facts. All we're going to do is have a party at her home and drink. Once I'm wasted, I'll just be a cute sleepy thing in your arms."

Ghost’s eyes widened momentarily at your touch, his body instinctively tensing up. He was caught off guard by the unexpected display of physical contact, but he masked his surprise quickly.

"Ah, the drunk sleeping-beauty routine," he said gruffly, attempting to keep his composure. "You have a habit of getting drunk, don’t you? Maybe that’s why I have to keep a close eye on you."

"Only on occasions. But I never drink till I forget, so don't worry." You waves your hands nonchalantly.

Ghost chuckled a bit at your words, his eyes glinting with amusement. He knew he should be annoyed by your carefree attitude, but there was something about your boldness and confidence that intrigued him.

"Oh yeah? You say that now, but let’s see how drunk and needy you get later." he said with a smirk.

You huffed and crossed your arms. Who said I'll be needy? You looked back up into his eyes, considering that's all you could see. A grin formed on your lips at the implication. "So is that a yes?"

Ghost raised an eyebrow at your question, his smirk growing wider at your stubbornness. He couldn't help but admire your determination in convincing him to let you go. But he wasn't going to admit that so easily.

"I didn't say that, I'm just saying it's a possibility."

He leaned against the wall again, his arms crossed as he looked down at you. His intense gaze held yours for a long moment, considering your proposal.

You looked at the watch around your wrist and gasped, "Uggghhh, I'll literally do anything at this point. I'm getting late!"

Anything, huh?

Ghost's mind briefly paused at your last sentence. Did you really mean anything? His mind immediately started contemplating the different ways he could take advantage of your careless promise.

He chuckled darkly and stepped closer to you, his towering form practically caging you against the wall. His expression shifted into a smirk, his eyes holding a dangerous glint.

"Anything, you say? Careful with your words now, little one." He smirked, but you knew better.

"Anything that doesn't have my father kill you, sure." You snarked back. You knew your father's strict ways and you'll be more than happy to use that to her advantage.

Ghost chuckled darkly once more, his smirk growing wider at your response. He could see the cleverness in your smirk and the way you were using your father's protective nature to your advantage.

He moved closer until his body was pressed up against yours, trapping you against the wall with his muscular form. He lowered his head slightly, his deep voice a mere whisper in your ear.

"You're a sneaky little one, aren't you? Using your daddy's protection to get your way." His breath was warm and intoxicating against your skin.

You gulped as you felt the cool wall on her back and Ghost's warm chest on her front. "W-What do you think you're doing? Back off. If this is what you mean, then get your head out the gutter. I'd rather die than use my body." You tried pushing him away.

Ghost chuckled at your attempts to push him away, his large hands firmly grasping your wrists and pinning them against the wall next to your head.

"Calm down, princess," he murmured, his voice a low growl against your ear. "I have no intention of forcing myself on you. I'm not that kind of man."

He held you there for a moment, his eyes watching you intently before he let go and took a step back. He smirked again, his gaze sharp and intense.

"I was just testing your limits, sweetie."

You grimaced at him and just took out your phone. "The feeling is mutual, but I am definitely not liking what I found out about you." With that, you dialed your father's number and waited till he picked up. After a few words, your father gave her permission to leave noting that Ghost can just follow her. You made sure that the whole conversation was on speaker.

Ghost watched as you called your father and put him on speakerphone. He raised an eyebrow at your unexpected move, intrigued by how you were playing this game. His expression remained neutral as he listened in on your conversation with him.

Once it was clear that you had gotten your father's permission to leave, Ghost's gaze shifted to you once more. He let out a soft scoff under his breath.

"Sneaky little minx," he murmured quietly.

You hung up the phone after thanking your father and gazed at him smugly. "I could have just done that at first, but I wanted to see what you'd do. Guess we both had the same thought in mind."

Ghost chuckled softly at your words, a hint of amusement in his deep voice. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall behind him, eyeing you with a wry smirk.

"You're more clever than I thought. Trying to see how far I'd go, huh?"

He took a few steps closer, his large frame towering over yours once more. His eyes were fixed on you, his expression a mix of curiosity and intrigue.

"And what thoughts were you having in that pretty little head of yours, sweetie?"

"To see what it would take for you to break and be a good little dog." You replied.

A good little dog, huh?

Ghost's smirk widened at your words, his gaze turning dark and intense. His eyes never left yours as he took another step closer, closing the distance between you even further.

"Breaking me, eh? You think you have what it takes to do that?" he asked, his voice a low rumble. His hand moved to gently take hold of your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

"Careful, little one. You might bite off more than you can chew."

You opted not to answer and just got your bag and walked out of her room. You just gave him a look. "Let's go. I'm already late. You're driving and I sent the coordinates to your phone."

Ghost let out a soft scoff as you walked past him, the smirk still on his face. He watched you grab your bag and stride out of your room confidently.

He followed after you, his footsteps silent despite his large frame. He got his phone and checked the coordinates you sent, nodding in acknowledgment.

"You're going to be the death of me, I swear," he muttered to himself as he led the way to the garage.

"Didn't know ghosts die." You said back, clearly hearing him.

Ghost rolled his eyes at your smartass comment, but couldn't help but chuckle softly. He couldn't deny that you had a sharp tongue, and he actually found it strangely endearing.

"Oh, shut it," he retorted back with a smirk. "Even ghosts can expire from annoyance, y'know? And you're testing that limit right now, sweetheart."

You acted nonchalantly, although getting a bit irked by this new bodyguard. While checking your french-tipped nails, you responded "Hmmm, duly noted. Do you want me to call father and just have you replaced? I heard you never had an unsatisfied or dead client. Should I change that?"

That little minx...

Ghost's smirk vanished at your words, his eyes narrowing slightly. He knew you were just playing your little game, testing his limits to see how far you could push him. And unfortunately for him, you had a way of getting under his skin.

"Watch it," he warned in a low growl. "You're walking on thin ice, princess. Threatening me won't end well for you."

"And threatening me ends well for you?"

Ghost's expression softened momentarily as he realized the truth behind your words. He let out a soft scoff and ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

"Fair enough," he conceded. "You've got a point there, I suppose. But don't think for a second that I won't take action if you cross the line, sweetie."

"I'll be good if you are." You winked at him before stepping into the back seat.

Ghost rolled his eyes again at your wink, his heart fluttering just a bit at the charming gesture. He tried to hide it behind his gruff exterior, but damn you had him feeling all sorts of things.

He got into the driver's seat and started the car, his eyes darting to glance at you in the rearview mirror.

"Don't tempt me, princess," he muttered under his breath. This job was going to kill him. With irritation or something else, he wasn't sure yet.

[celestial-quill-n-ink]

What They Think Of You (Season 1):

🎮Leviathan🎮

✦ To be honest, Levi pretty much forgot that the Human Exchange Student was going to be arriving that day. I mean, he had so many more important things to worry about, so what reason would he have to care about a simple human?

✦ …Actually… He could use this to his advantage. Would it be petty? Maybe, but it would serve Mammon right for being such a scummy brother!

✦ And surprisingly enough, his plan worked! But despite what his brothers were insinuating, he didn't care for you in any way! Not at all! Not one bit!

✦ It's not like he was practically living within one of his favourite anime tropes, having become the unsuspecting onlooker to a real life isekai! An innocent human suddenly thrust into a world of magic and demons! An instantly compelling setup that had made him fall in love with many a main characters…

✦ But regardless of any of that!!! He was just a stinky Otaku who gamed his days away in the comfort of his room. There was no need for him to get involved with whatever daredevil antics the human and his scummy brother were bound to get up to.

✦ …That wasn't going to be as easy as he wanted, however.

✦ Because this human just didn't know when to quit! I mean, why do they get to have so much fun binging TSL and then act so confident as if they know what they're talking about? It just wasn't fair.

✦ And now here he was, standing in front of a terrifyingly large crowd in the main hall of RAD, just to prove to one singular prideful human that he was the ultimate TSL fan!

✦ …He really didn't want to hurt them. He honestly felt downright awful after his outburst. But most of all, he felt defeated.

✦ Did he believe that you cheated during the TSL Showdown? …Kind of, yeah. Actually, yeah, he did think it was a scummy thing to do!

✦ But… it's not like he was in a position to have the rarest of merch or all the insider details of his favourite story. And that's simply because he was a shut-in. He keeps to himself and he never tries to interact with others.

✦ Whether he likes it or not, you got the advantages and opportunities you had because you actually interacted with people and made your own impression on them.

✦ And that made him so jealous.

✦ So he agreed to the pact. He conceded that you had something that he didn't, despite how desperately he did want it.

✦ And then you apologised to him. For using dirty tactics to get your way, because you would feel the exact way he did if someone tried to do that with your favourite pieces of media.

✦ …Wait, what???

✦ You actually enjoyed video games and anime too? Just like him??? ...I mean, maybe he could forgive you, but that didn't make you two best friends or anything!!!

✦ Spoiler Alert: It definitely did to him.

✦ He actually got to know you on a deeper level, watching how you'd interact with his brothers, like you were just always meant to fit with them. These… misfit fallen angels that they were.

✦ And the craziest thing of all was that you actually wanted to hang out with him!!! You wanted to share your favourite Human World anime and manga with him, and soon enough (way faster than he was ever willing to admit), he did the same for you with Devildom media.

✦ Which was all fine and dandy, sunshine and rainbows, but why in all of the three realms did his brothers have to be so obnoxious about you? Constantly vying for your attention, while you argued that you'd already scheduled this time for you and him.

✦ And wow, did hearing that pacify his envy quicker than any of the anime merch he's ever bought…

[devils-dares]

Give Up The World

summary: coming back home battered and bruised with a baby on the way makes matt rethink his nighttime activities.

pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader

warnings: canon typical injuries and blood, little bit of angst, whole lotta fluff

word count: 1200+

A/N: i was literally in the middle of writing for a celebration prompt when i had a brainstorming sesh with @galaxysgal and this idea came to life as soon as my fingers touched my keyboard. i'm pretty sure this was almost done in what i imagine was the first day of writing.

reblogs and comments are welcomed!

-----

You can hear the stairs groan under his weight, one boot step heavier than the other- he was limping… a lot. You cringe as he groans and whines down the rest of the stairs, making his way to you. He can hear your gasp when he comes into view, blood dripping from the bottom of his mask as he sways on his feet.

“I’m sorry,” are the first words out of his mouth.

“What happened?” You ask, tears welling up in your eyes.

“Ambush, I- ah!” He groans, grabbing his side.

“Should’ve seen it coming.” The words ring in your ears as he limps over to the table and sits on the chair.

“I should- let me- the kit.” You eek out, and he can tell you’re freaked.

“Angel-”

“I’m okay, just stay there.” You scurry off to the bathroom and he sighs, hearing your elevated heart rate accompanied by the smaller one that started in your tummy just a few days ago. He strips himself of his helmet and his top, leaving a wide array of bruises, scars, and slices on display. His side, the cut he was holding earlier, gushes dark crimson blood, a reminder of how brutal this job is.

He hears your breath leave you once again as you observe him on the chair, until your adrenaline kicks back in and shakes you away from shock. The feet that carry you to your husband leaving louder footsteps than usual, the extra weight in your tummy being something you have yet to get used to. Your fingers trace his face softly, brushing over a bruise that paints his cheek green and yellow, and he leans into your warm palm.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” He nods and closes his eyes, readying himself for the stinging burn that comes along with rubbing alcohol. You press the rag to his cut skin and he inhales sharply through his teeth and grunts.

“I’m sorry, Matty. I’m trying my best to make it not hurt.”

“It’s okay, I know, you’re doing amazing.” The two of you fall silent after that, only the sound of Matt’s pained grunts permeating the suffocating quiet. Your heart rate rises every time Matt makes a noise, followed by a whisper of “I’m sorry,” or “I love you,” falling from your lips and his own heart breaks a little every time it slips out.

“I can’t…” He says, and it makes you pause.

“Matthew?”

“I quit, I retire, whatever you want to call it. I can’t be Daredevil anymore.”

“What are you saying?”

“I have the most important parts of my life in this room right now, and I’ll be damned if I get myself killed out there instead of taking care of the two of you.”

“A-are you sure? This is a big thing to just go cold turkey on.”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

In all fairness, he did go cold turkey and he stuck with it. He put all his efforts into house shopping, and all his aggression into the punching bags at Fogwell’s. Oftentimes he’d pause by the closet under the stairs that concealed the trunk that held his suit. You could tell he had an itching, a longing, to go back to his ways. His thumbs would begin tracing the scars on his knuckles from years of serving his penance, hands balled into fists, he’d twitch towards the hiding spot until his ears fell on you. On your growing baby and the small heartbeat that lay within your tummy. He’d remind himself of what lay ahead, what he quit for, why he continues to stay away.

You could tell it’d weigh heavy on his mind, flashes of aggression would show through, and he tried his best to channel it to more productive things, but with disagreements you could see it bleed through. His nostrils flared, his eyes went wide, his voice would drop an octave and suddenly you’d realize how exactly he instilled so much fear into his enemies. He’d always apologize as soon as he did it, though, it still hurt to know that he could unleash just a glimpse of unbridled fury against you.

It weighed heavily on your marriage, there were days where he’d stay up all night, listening to the sirens and knowing that he couldn’t do anything about it, just to be angry and irritable all day. You swore you’d never leave him though, and it paid off. After months of sitting in that darkness all alone, he let you in. He told you of all his intrusive thoughts, how he felt about anything and everything, what made him happy and what made him tick and why he couldn’t be near you on certain nights. It made sense, the way he explained it, why he did the things he does. It must’ve been a coincidence, but the second he shed a tear, your child kicked for the first time.

You gasped and grabbed his hand, placing it towards the side of your belly. He looks quizzically until he feels it, and the tears come quicker when he realizes.

“Oh-” He chokes up on his words.

“This. This is what we do everything for. This is ours, Matt, don’t you realize? I will never leave you for acting the way you do, I get it. But we have bigger priorities now.” He nods and laughs as he feels another kick, harder this time.

“Looks like you’ll be dealing with a mini-me.” He laughs.

“Unfortunately.”

-----

“Mommy, why does daddy have lines over here?” She points to his chest while laying on him. The three of you were laying in bed in the early morning, light shining through the windows of your Astoria home. Your four year old daughter, bless her soul, was the most curious kid on the block. She could smell your’s and Matt’s bullshit from a mile away when you wanted to appease her, and kept pushing until she got a real answer, or at least a high effort answer.

“So bumpy,” she observes, running her hand over his scars, “what is it?”

“It’s something… daddy always had.” Matt answers, and she tuts.

“Wrong, mommy, your turn.” Matt laughs at that.

“Lawyer’s daughter,” you huff, Matt’s laugh now shaking the bed, “well, baby, before you were born, daddy was a really good guy. He used to go out and save the world, every night! Sometimes, though, he’d get a little hurt, and mommy would have to fix his booboos-”

“Did you kiss em like mine?” She asks.

“No, sweetheart, that’s only for you.”

“Mommy likes me more!” She squeals at Matt.

“Anyways, sometimes when they healed, they left little bumps, or scars. It just shows how much daddy loved his city, and how he gave it away to love you now.”

“Thank you, daddy.” She buries her head in his shoulder and he holds her tight.

“I’d give up anything for you, bug, but you gotta give mommy the credit. I was hard to be around.” She looks up at you and tugs you into their cuddle pile.

Soon enough, she falls asleep, her puffs of air hitting Matt’s cheek as she lay on his shoulder.

“Thank you.” He mumbles sleepily.

“For what?”

“For staying with me, for giving her to me, for having faith in me when I was at my lowest.”

“I watched a building drop on you, I’m not letting you go over a few hissy fits.” He laughed at your attempt to lighten the mood.

“I know. I love you.”

“I love you too.” You yawn out, and Matt stays awake to listen to his girls’ heartbeats while they sleep peacefully.

[myosotisa]

Sleep Well - m.m.

Matt Murdock x Reader

‖  summary: You're still awake when Matt gets home, allowing him the opportunity to coax you into bed with him.

‖  tags: fluff, like rot your teeth sweet fluff. established relatonship, sharing a bed, you know he's daredevil. gender neutral reader, no pronouns, no y/n. nicknames for reader are sweetheart, baby, and buttercup.

‖  word count: 1.4k ‖ Read on AO3

It is with a small amount of concern that Matt notices you’re still awake by the time he gets back from his ‘night job’. He can tell pretty quickly what you’ve been doing all this time – the buzzing hum and the heat coming off of your overworked desktop suggest many, many consecutive hours of playtime.

It’s certainly not the first time he’s found you still awake and gaming when he came home, but it is the 4th night this week. And while it might be a bit hypocritical of him, he’s a bit worried about your lack of sleep after so many late nights.

You must have your headphones on because you don’t react when he drops into the apartment, remaining blissfully focused and unaware as he strips out of his gear and slips into the bathroom to clean up.

He is genuinely surprised when he successfully gets through bandaging a couple scrapes and changing into a pair of pajama pants without drawing your attention. You’re normally pretty aware of your surroundings, even at home during the night, so you must be extremely focused on whatever you’re playing. It’s got him curious, for sure. He normally asks about the games you’re playing; he could listen to you ramble on and on about the gameplay mechanics and storylines and what you enjoy and what you don’t enjoy for hours. He can’t really participate himself, and some of the things you say goes right over his head, but he follows along as best he can and asks follow up questions just because he loves hearing you talk about something you’re passionate about. It helps that you seem to enjoy getting to talk about it too.

Resolving to ask you what you’ve been playing recently that has you so fixated, he finally walks up behind you and lays a careful hand on your shoulder to get your attention.

You still jump in surprise, an inevitability no matter how gentle he was, and immediately slip your headphones off of your ears. “Hey, how long have you been back?”

The corner of his mouth tilts up in amusement as he presses the tips of his fingers into the tense muscles at the base of your neck. “About 15 minutes or so. You were really tuned in.”

Your heartbeat quickens slightly, heat pooling in your face in a show of embarrassment. “Yeah, I guess so. Sorry about that. Everything go okay tonight? Need anything patched up?” You’re quick to turn your rolling chair toward him, legs unfolding from under you as you move to stand, but he uses both hands on your shoulders to keep you firmly seated.

“Everything’s fine, just a couple scrapes and bruises. I’m all cleaned up already,” he reassures you, noticing how you immediately relax back into your chair as his thumbs press into the knots along your shoulders. “Have you been having fun? You’ve been playing a ton recently.”

“Yeah, I’ve kinda put a disgusting amount of hours into this game since it came out,” you admit bashfully, rubbing your palm along your jawline. “I wasn’t planning on staying up again tonight but I guess I lost track of time. Sorry, Matt.”

He chuckles, his voice rougher from time spent playing the Devil, and squeezes your shoulders a few times in what he hopes is a comforting matter. “Why are you apologizing to me? You’re the one who is going to be grumpy in the morning.”

His teasing makes your face heat further, which only delights him more. “Yeah, but you’re going to have to deal with me being grumpy in the morning,” you murmur, looking back over to the screen to click through the process of saving and quitting.

Warm, strong hands still firmly on your loosening shoulders, he leans down to graze the tip of his nose along the shell of your ear. “Well then it’s a good thing I know just how to fix your grumpy moods, isn’t it, sweetheart?” His warm breath skates across your neck to match his low-toned voice, both things together succeeding in sending a shiver down your spine.

Setting your desktop to shut down, along with the lighting around your space, sends the room into a comfortable darkness. “Careful, Murdock,” you warn playfully as you learn back further into his secure touch, “keep saying things like that and we might not be sleeping at all.”

He hums thoughtfully, the sound vibrating deep in his chest, before he presses a firm kiss to your temple and stands upright again. “Well, we can’t have that. I need all the beauty rest I can manage.”

You mumble something along the lines of ‘yeah right’ but don’t resist as he coaxes you out of your desk chair and toward the bedroom. He keeps his hands on you all the way, leading by your shoulders or your hips or your waist. When he deposits you on the edge of your side of the bed, he gives you another sweet kiss on the forehead while a promise to be right back.

He returns with 2 glasses of water, handing one to you and requesting you drink a good portion of it before he brings his own up to his mouth. You’re momentarily distracted by the strong lines of his body as he raises the glass – the subtle bulge of his bicep and the flex of his throat as he greedily swallows the water down. You’re still staring when he lowers his glass again, pink lips glossy with water and his unfocused eyes narrowed slightly in mischief.

“Watching me drink water doesn’t count as drinking water yourself,” he remarks with a cheeky grin, slightly tipping his glass toward you. “Drink up, buttercup.”

Firmly rolling your eyes at his cocky attitude, you still tip back the glass and drink at least half all at once. You hadn’t realized how thirsty you had gotten while gaming, and feel your heart warm with love at Matt having realized that and forcing some water in you to keep you from going to bed dehydrated.

Wonderful, horrible, thoughtful man.

After determining you’ve had enough to satisfy him, he easily takes the glass from you and sets it on the table beside the bed, even though you were more than capable of doing so yourself. By the time he rounds the bed to his side, you’ve tucked yourself beneath the duvet and laid your head down on your pillow. When you’re both fully settled, you let out matching sighs of contentment, which makes you both laugh softly. 

“Y’know, as much as I worry about you not getting enough sleep, this is nice.” He rolls onto his side toward you, propping himself up on his elbow as his other hand reaches out to brush against your arm. “Coming home to you still being awake, getting ready for bed with you, having your voice be the last thing I hear before I go to sleep…” He trails off with a happy sigh, looking entirely too warm and cozy and happy for your heart to take.

Scooting across the silk sheets toward him, he easily welcomes you into his arms, folding one around your shoulders as you rest your head on his bare chest. “Matthew, if you don’t stop being so adorable right now, I’m going to eat you.”

He chuckles again, this time more movement than sound, and squeezes you in tighter against his side. He’s radiating warmth – and the lull of his steady breathing and safe hold on you has your eyelids getting heavy fast. Dropping his voice down to a near whisper in the dark, he rasps, “I could say the same thing, baby. But right now we need to get some sleep.”

You hum a noncommittal sound, letting your eyes fall closed as you snuggle into him and settle. After several moments of breathing deeply and enjoying the comfort of the moment, you whisper a, “Hey Matt?”

He mumbles a deep, “Hmm?,” while sounding on the edge of falling asleep already.

Tipping your head back to look up at him, you take a deep breath and feel compelled to remind him, “I love you.”

His lips twist in a smile though his eyes stay blissfully closed. “I love you too, sweetheart. Sleep well.”

-

-

-

thanks for reading, please leave a like and reblog with a comment if you enjoyed!!

[bellaxgiornata]

Seeking Forgiveness [Part Seven]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3.6k

[Full summary and installment list for this series can be found here.]

Warnings/tags: 18+ contains angst, emotional hurt, delayed comfort, pregnant Reader

a/n: I have finally gotten this update up for y'all! It's been written and sitting waiting for over a month, but now that I'm not trying to write holiday fics (though I might still write that Owen Sleater one), it's back to business as usual! Feedback is always appreciated!

Fidgeting with the beer bottle between his fingers, Matt wasn't paying much attention to the room around him. Which said a lot about his current focus considering how loud Josie’s bar was this evening with the crowd that had filled the space tonight. He also wasn't paying any attention to the conversation Foggy and Karen had struck up a while ago at their table about a client they'd met with earlier today. Because despite the fact that Matt was currently sitting with the pair of them drinking back his beer, his attention was entirely elsewhere this evening. On you a couple of blocks away in your apartment.

Admittedly there wasn’t very much that he could pick up on at this distance where he sat at Josie’s, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself from trying to hear what he could–even if he knew he shouldn't be invading your privacy like this. It was already bad enough he always stopped by at the beginning and end of his patrols, always wanting to make sure things were alright. Though deep down he knew he kept doing it because he was desperate to feel connected to the pair of you somehow. He just couldn't seem to stay away despite that being what you seemed to want him to do. 

His eyes narrowed in concentration behind the lenses of his glasses. It sounded like you were cleaning up whatever dinner you'd made in your kitchen, which made sense considering the hour. You usually ate around this time after work. As he listened to the faint sounds of dishes clinking together, he wondered what you’d made to eat tonight. You'd been craving pesto pasta like crazy but constantly kept forgetting to add the items to your grocery list. Something Matt only knew because of his new habit of lingering on your rooftop as Daredevil, not because you'd actually spoken to him recently and told him yourself. For which he kept chastising himself about doing, except he couldn't seem to stop eavesdropping. 

Like right now.

Despite you making it clear you wanted nothing to do with him for the time being, he had tried calling you repeatedly in the hopes of finding a vastly healthier and less invasive way to stay connected with you, but you'd only answered once and it was to ask him to stop calling. You told him when you were ready to talk that you'd reach out to him. Which meant he hadn't tried to show up at your apartment as Matt Murdock, trying to respect your wishes. But that ultimately put him in a difficult position, because not communicating with you meant he couldn't prove himself to you–couldn’t prove how sorry he was for what he’d done. He'd been back and forth on that for the past two days, constantly feeling like the clock was ticking on him finding some way back into your life to show you that you and that baby were what he wanted.

An abrupt, loud snapping noise sounded directly in front of Matt’s face and he jumped in his chair, blinking rapidly a few times behind his glasses. The noise instantly had broken his concentration from his thoughts and your apartment, something that had taken him quite a few minutes to lock in on in the first place considering the distance.

“Matt, buddy, you in there?” Foggy asked.

Matt cleared his throat, forcing a smile onto his face at the sound of his friend's voice. Gradually and begrudgingly his attention and senses returned to the bar around himself.

“Yeah, sorry,” he replied. “Was just zoning out, I guess.”

“Thinking about her again, aren’t you?” Foggy solemnly asked.

“Kind of hard not to,” he muttered.

He felt Karen’s hand land gently on his shoulder before giving it a comforting squeeze. He glanced in her direction, sending the tense smile her way. Despite how much he'd screwed things up with you, and how much Foggy and Karen cared about you, they'd still been incredibly supportive of him. They'd even been understanding of his initial angry outburst at the office for which Matt had guiltily apologized for numerous times by now.

"She's doing alright," Karen assured him. "Though I'm guessing you already know that."

Matt ducked his head, awkwardly running a hand across his mouth as he felt the guilt burn within him. There was no point in denying it. You had to have already figured it out yourself when he'd left that stuffed narwhal at your apartment after you'd gone back to sleep the other night. It wasn't as if he'd expected that to make you feel any differently about him, but he hoped you knew that he was still here. Still around. Still thinking about the both of you. Still wanting the both of you. 

"Yeah, I stop there at night," Matt admitted awkwardly. "Not for long," he lied, "just enough to know things are alright. That she doesn't need anything. And to uh…hear the heartbeat."

Truthfully it had become his new favorite sound, even more than the beat of your own familiar heart. It was muffled but strong, faster than the usual heartbeats he heard all day long. 

"Have you tried just showing up?" Foggy asked curiously. "You know, the way people usually do, not the way you usually do? Just to see what would happen?"

Matt shrugged, shifting in his chair. "I've thought about it," he answered. "I'm just always torn between respecting her boundaries and wanting to show her that I'm still here for her. That I want to be. But I'm always afraid if–” he paused, wincing as the thought crossed his mind. “I'm afraid if I do, it'll only upset her more. Push her away from me even further.”

Karen hummed in thought beside Matt. The sound caught his attention, his head tilting a bit to the side towards her. The noise almost sounded like one of disagreement. 

“What?” Matt asked. 

“I think,” Karen began carefully, “that she's actually a bit conflicted.”

Matt's attention focused entirely on Karen now as he straightened in his chair. His brows rose up curiously onto his forehead, eager for her to elaborate. 

“Conflicted?” he asked curiously. “Conflicted how? About what? Me?”

“Yes,” Karen answered with a faint nod. “I mean she obviously still loves you, Matt. That doesn't just disappear overnight. Ideally I think she'd want you to be raising the baby with her from the way she talks. Going through all of this with her. But she's still hurt. And she's scared. And she, well, obviously still doesn't believe her and the baby would be a priority to you.”

Matt twisted in his seat, fully facing Karen. “So what're you saying?” he pressed.

He heard the way the air shifted as Karen shrugged beside him. Her lip suddenly caught between her teeth where she lightly chewed it for a moment. The pause was killing Matt, his hand tightening around the neck of his beer bottle. 

“I'm saying I think you should find an excuse and show up at her place,” Karen eventually replied. She held up a finger as she quickly amended, “As Matt, not you-know-who. Don't push her boundaries, just show up long enough to show her you're still here, like you’ve been wanting to do. That you're not giving up. I think she needs that more than she's letting on to you. Maybe…find some sort of way to show her you're trying to be a supportive future father and partner.”

“Okay,” Matt mused, running a frustrated hand through his hair and mussing it as his thoughts began to race. “Okay,” he repeated. “So don't show up with apology flowers. Noted.”

“No, but maybe bring her something else that might help her,” Karen suggested lightly. “Something that might be useful during her pregnancy. To show her you're serious about things with her and the baby.”

“Oh!” Foggy exclaimed, excitedly slapping a hand to the table. “Like an excuse to just show up and see her because you're dropping something off!”

Matt sighed deeply, swiveling back around in his seat. He leant his elbows onto the uneven wooden table as he began to rub his palms together in thought. What could he possibly bring you that might be useful for your pregnancy? Something you might actually be grateful for and need? That wouldn't make you curse him from daring to darken your apartment door?

This was something he'd have to give some thought to tonight. 

Willing your mind to quiet, you lay on your side beneath the sheets of your bed which you'd tugged up to your chin. It was a little after one in the afternoon and you'd been hoping to take a brief nap after lunch, something you couldn't do during the weekdays because of work. Your body usually wanted to give up once this time of day hit, probably partly because of pregnancy fatigue but also because you hadn't been sleeping well lately. 

It was damn near impossible to get comfortable when you laid down even though your stomach wasn't quite that large yet. But the hormones in your body responsible for relaxing your muscles and ligaments during pregnancy were also responsible for the fact that sleeping on your side killed your hips and knees far more than side sleeping ever had in the past. You didn't just wake up to pee or possibly vomit now, sometimes you just ached horribly and couldn't find a comfortable position to sleep in. Which often led to your mind racing and keeping you awake for part of the night. 

Truth be told though, everything on your body hurt lately. You often had headaches–another perk of early pregnancy–along with constant back and hip pain. Your breasts were still quite sensitive and tender, too. The one bright spot through it all this week had been an appointment you had coming up with your obstetrician. The one where you could get your blood drawn and in another week or so, you'd know whether your little devil would be a boy or a girl. It had been on your mind all week, your excitement barely contained and adding to your inability to sleep. 

Trying to push the thought of the baby's sex from your mind, you squeezed your eyes a bit tighter shut. The light from the sunny afternoon was still slipping in past your blinds, making your room almost too bright. The sounds of the city traffic bustling below your apartment weren't helping right now, either. 

But it was an unexpected knock at your apartment door that had your eyes inevitably flying back open. 

Raising your head from the pillow hesitantly, you blinked hard a few times. You hadn't been expecting anyone to stop by today. Brows knitted together, you pushed the sheets off of yourself and ran a hand over your eyes. Moving slowly along the bed, you gradually pushed yourself upright and set your feet on the floor, noticeably moving slower than if you hadn't been almost eleven weeks pregnant. 

Rising to your feet, you sluggishly made your way out of your bedroom and down the hall. Stopping in front of your door, you undid the locks before turning the handle and pulling it open. The sight of Matt standing before you in one of his fitted tee-shirts with an awkward smile on his face took you by surprise. Your eyes widened as you felt your own pulse increase at the unexpected appearance of him. Gaze dropping down, you saw he was carrying an almost comically large shopping bag in his left hand.

“Matt, what are you doing here?” you asked, one hand gripping the door tighter. “I thought I–I asked you to give me space for now?”

“Yes, you did,” he replied awkwardly, that smile on his face growing more nervous. “But I…I really don't want to stay away because I was still hoping you could give me a chance. To prove how sorry I am.”

Shoulders dropping at his words, you lightly blew out a breath. “Matt–”

“Hear me out, please,” he begged, cutting you off.

An earnest look crossed his face as his dark brows drew together above his glasses. Lips pressing together, you released the door from your grip and crossed your arms over your chest. 

“Fine, talk,” you demanded.

“Look, I–I know you want me to stay away,” he began in a rush, as if he was afraid that you wouldn't give him enough time to explain himself before you slammed the door in his face. “And I want to respect that, I do. But I can't walk away from the both of you. I can't . I won't abandon my child and I won't abandon you. I want to prove how sorry I am to you, sweetheart. I want to prove that you can depend on me, that I want this. Because I do.”

“Matt, I already told you that I'd let you have a relationship with your child,” you reminded him. “I'm not telling you to abandon them.”

He shook his head quickly, his hand readjusting on the plastic bag he was holding. It crinkled loudly in his grip and briefly caught your eye again, making you wonder what the hell was in the bag. But when he spoke again, your attention returned to his face.

“You might not see it that way,” Matt countered, still shaking his head, “but to me it's no different. And I won't walk away from you or my own child.” His face grew more solemn as he added softly, “You know me, sweetheart. You know how I grew up, how it affected me. All I'm asking is that you just…just give me a chance to make amends. I made a massive mistake and I hurt you. I was an asshole and I want to fix things. So just…can you at least consider giving me that chance? Please?”

Inhaling a deep breath, your eyes scanned over his anxious, pleading face. Your heart had dropped in your chest the second he'd mentioned his past. Because of course you knew how Matt had felt abandoned by what his father had done, willingly going and getting himself killed when he won that fight instead of losing it which ultimately left Matt alone in the world. You also knew how he'd formed a bond with Stick, his mentor who'd abandoned him the moment Matt displayed his care for the man. You also knew about his toxic relationship–the only other he'd ever had–where his ex had abandoned him because he wouldn't kill his father's murderer. And then of course, you knew how much pain he'd felt when he learned that his mother had been a nun at the orphanage he grew up in, making him feel unwanted because he'd only accidentally overheard the truth as a grown man years later.

Matt Murdock struggled with feeling unloved and unwanted because of his abandonment issues from almost every important figure in his life. And now he was afraid he'd be condemning this child to a similar trauma. The thought of that caused your heart to twist tight in your chest. 

“I'll think about it,” you answered quietly. 

“Thank you,” Matt replied in relief, his expression visibly relaxing.

Your eyes dropped back down to the large bag in his hand, your head tilting to the side as you curiously studied it. Matt let out a nervous huff of a laugh as he shifted on his feet. He extended the bag out towards you and your brows jumped up onto your forehead. 

“I uh, I brought you something,” Matt said, his tone returning awkward. 

For a moment you just stared at the bag in his outstretched hand, unsure what to make of him bringing you anything right now. Slowly and hesitantly you reached out, grasping onto the handles of the bag. Though you let out a surprised gasp when Matt let go and the weight of its contents startled you, almost causing you to drop it entirely. Your other hand darted out, grabbing onto the bag and catching it before it could slip from your grasp. Drawing it towards yourself, you peered inside. 

“It's a pregnancy pillow and a weighted blanket,” Matt explained, running his now free hand across the back of his neck. “I know you have had trouble sleeping lately and I thought they'd help. The weighted blanket should help relax you and the–the pregnancy pillow should help with body pain and the weight of your belly when you're farther along. I actually spent a while researching them. Who knew there were so many shapes?” He chuckled nervously, his hand still rubbing the back of his neck. “Figured this one would work the best for how you sleep–or, how I remember you always sleeping, at least.”

Your jaw dropped as you stared back at Matt, the heavy bag still held in your hands. While the gift was thoughtful and sweet, there was only one explanation as to why he'd brought these particular items which were meant to help you sleep, especially when you'd had a hard time doing exactly that lately.

“Have you been spying on me again, Matt?” you questioned in disbelief.

He hung his head immediately, his shoulders dropping at the accusation. You already knew the answer before he even said a word and your mouth fell open wider.

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't,” he apologized shamefully. “I know I shouldn't. But I mainly just check in first thing when I go out at night and–and then once more before I go home. To make sure you're safe and alright because I worry. And I–” he broke off, nervously chewing his bottom lip. “I like to listen to the baby's heartbeat,” he confessed quietly.

Something about the way he'd admitted that last bit had disarmed you. That wasn't what you expected him to say and you momentarily felt your heart soften to him. But your upset about him eavesdropping on you soon washed back over you again, your hands curling tight around the bag.

“I don't like that, Matt,” you warned him. “That makes me uncomfortable knowing my ex is listening in to whatever I'm doing in here and I don't know about it.”

Matt nodded solemnly in response. “I understand, I do. I'll try my best to refrain, but if something brings me nearby at night I…admittedly have a hard time not picking up on things.” He shrugged faintly, his covered gaze still downcast. “I'm just tuned into you and it's sort of a habit by now after how much time we've spent together.”

An awkward silence settled over the both of you at his explanation, the pair of you standing there wordlessly. You weren't about to invite Matt inside–especially not after just learning that –but you could also tell he clearly didn't want to go, either. Though after a moment he shifted his weight between his feet before he glanced up in your direction once again. His lips were twisted downwards at the corners, guilt and sadness barely hidden on his face. You fought to ignore the urge to draw him into a hug at the sight.

“I'll let you go, I can tell my visit isn't exactly what you want, but can you think about what I asked?” he questioned. “About giving me a chance to prove myself?”

Blowing out a breath, you slowly nodded. “I'll think about it,” you told him softly, “but I'm not making any promises, Matt.”

He shot you a tense smile, nodding his head once as he took a step back into the apartment building hallway. Something tugged at your heart knowing he was leaving, but you quickly tried to ignore that feeling, too.

“Hope those help,” he murmured, briefly gesturing to the bag.

Without another word, Matt turned and made his way down the hallway and back towards the elevator at the far end, his cane tapping lightly along the floor. You watched his retreating form for a moment before you forced your eyes away. You didn't know quite what to make of his surprise visit. 

Closing the door of your apartment, you locked it again before dragging the heavy bag back to your bedroom. You were still tired and had every intention of attempting that nap despite the unexpected interruption, and admittedly you were curious about the items Matt had brought you. Would they actually help you fall asleep?

It was a few minutes before you'd managed to unpackage the incredibly soft, gray weighted blanket and spread it over your bed. You'd put the pregnancy pillow up on the bed underneath the blanket afterwards before you'd climbed up onto the mattress and slipped beneath the blanket. Immediately you wrapped your legs around the pillow and snuggled up to it, feeling the pain in your hips instantly lessen in this position. You sighed in relief, letting your eyelids gently drop as you felt the weight of the blanket relaxing you, just as Matt had claimed it would. 

With a soft, contented hum, you nuzzled into your pillow and felt that wave of exhaustion begin to overtake you. But as you lay there waiting for sleep, you couldn't help but imagine it was the weight of Matt's arms wrapped around you, comfortably sinking you further into the mattress. And if you kept your eyes closed and tried hard enough, you could imagine it was Matt's thick thigh that your legs were wrapped around, wedged between yours just like you'd slept many nights in the past with him. 

Which was how you finally found yourself drifting comfortably to sleep–imagining you were safe in Matt’s arms, the place you so desperately missed being. 

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[Some tags aren't working, I never fully know why. If I've misspelled yours, please feel free to let me know! Otherwise it's just tumblr being a pain and not tagging for unknown reasons because this always happens. I'm sorry!]